


Swallow Your Pride and Drown

by lemyh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drunk sex that might be seen as dubious consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemyh/pseuds/lemyh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six PM on the dot, Stiles Stilinski was in his car heading home. Not to the little apartment he called home ever since he moved away from his hometown, the apartment where all he had was a plant and depressing sense that this is what was left of his life. He was driving back to Beacon Hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swallow Your Pride and Drown

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I had a reader say that part of this story might be a bit triggering for people and while that wasn't how I wrote it, if that's how it might come across, I should warn the rest of my readers.
> 
> So warning AND SPOILER: Drunk sex that might be seen as dubious consent. Again, that's not how I wrote this story but since it was brought to my attention that that's how it was received by one reader, I'm just making sure that everyone is aware of the potential. Thank you.
> 
> This is a really long fic. I wrote it the weekend I got terrifyingly drunk. Although I wrote it when I was sober. Two important bits of information before you begin.
> 
> 1) This is AU from the first season. There are things that are obviously different but they are explained throughout the story.
> 
> 2) There are explicit scenes of gay sex. Not sure if this is a warning or a promise.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this story.

Six PM on the dot, Stiles Stilinski was in his car heading home. Not to the little apartment he called home ever since he moved away from his hometown, the apartment where all he had was a plant and depressing sense that this is what was left of his life. He was driving back to Beacon Hills.

He'd gotten a call about thirty minutes before from the hospital in Beacon Hills. He recognized the number, which probably spoke to his interesting teenage years more than anything, and had answered with a calm voice that didn't betray his shaking insides.

"Is this... Stiles Stilinski?" The voice had been warm but careful and Stiles had dropped onto his rickety sofa, hand tight on the plastic of the cell phone.

"Yes." The woman coughed, apologized for coughing, before started to explain.

"This is Glinda from Beacon Hills General Hospital. Your father was brought in this evening. He was hit by a drunk driver on his way home. Now the condition isn't critical, but I'm afraid I cannot tell you more on the phone." Stiles was already up and moving, gathering a duffle bag to pile some belongings in.

"Okay, okay. I'm going to... I'm on my way. I'm leaving now. It'll take me a while to get there, but I'm coming." He tripped over the plant that sat despondently next to his bedroom door and nearly face planted, but he steadied himself and kept moving.

"How long will it take you to get here?" Stiles glanced at his too large watch, doing the math in his head, and swearing a little. 

"I'll be there by eight. If anything happens, just call my cell phone. Thank you."

He hung up, finished packing, and threw all of his belongings into the jeep he'd had with him since high school. 

He'd moved two hours away from his home to get away from the memories, but now he wanted nothing more than for it to not be as far away.

The drive was full of Stiles trying not to panic, which proved to be a bit more difficult than he thought. He had to pull over twice, wasting time he didn't have, to calm himself down enough to finish the drive. Panic attacks weren't new to him, not even close, but there was a new tinge to it now.

He pushed the thoughts away and kept driving, eyes taking in the almost familiar route to Beacon Hills. He had made the drive three times in the three years he'd been gone. That wasn't something he was proud of, deserting his dad the way he did, but he had to get out.

High school was four years of hell, broken up by summers of hell that Stiles just couldn't stand anymore. He got accepted to a college a few hours away and left, never turning back. He spoke to his dad every week, sometimes every day, but he couldn't take being in that place where he'd pretended to just be the quirky teenager to cover the fact that he was actually an angsty teenager.

It took a full year of living by himself, away from his dad and the place he knew, to realize he'd overreacted a bit. But he took after his mom in his stubbornness and he refused to move back, refused to lower his guns and surrender. His dad had been disappointed, but as in all things, stood by his son's choices.

That made it hurt worse. 

Beacon Hills, despite how long he'd been gone, hadn't changed. He didn't know why he expected it to, he was there for Christmas only a few months ago, but it looked the same. He sped down the familiar winding roads, woods on either side, until he got to the main road where the hospital was.

His jeep's tires squealed as he slid into a parking spot, slamming on the breaks. He took a moment to calm down, gathering his wits about him as he got out. He had to double back when he realized he'd left his keys, but then he made his way to the door, hands forced in his pockets to keep from shaking. 

There was a woman at the front desk, her nametag saying this was Glinda, and he went straight to her.

"Hey. I'm Stiles Stilinski? My dad is here." She smiled calmly at him, checking the computer, before telling him where to go. He nodded to her, grateful for a kind face, before getting in the elevator and going up.

His dad was in a room, propped up on a set of pillows and dozing. The television in the corner was playing an infomercial but it was muted. A nurse told Stiles to go in and he nodded to her, trying not to show his apprehension. He didn't know the damage, didn't know what to expect.

Two broken legs, already in casts. He had a few scratches and bruises showing up on the side of his face. One arm was in a sling, tight to his body that said his shoulder had been popped out of place. Stiles took a deep breath before sitting in the plastic chair next to the bed.

The noise made his dad jerk awake, looking around wildly before his eyes landed on Stiles' face.

"Hey kiddo. What are you doing here?" His voice was rough, the tone light. Stiles wrapped his hand around his dad's good hand and squeezed as tight as he dared. 

"Got a call. Came straight here." His dad started to sit up, but Stiles pushed him back down.

"It's fine, really. I have a lot of vacation time from work and I'm only in online classes this semester. I can take a few weeks to get you back on your feet." His dad sighed, mouth turning up in the corner, but stopped when it pulled on one of the cuts and he winced.

"Go back to sleep. I'm going to talk to a nurse and then run my stuff by the house. I'll be back before visiting hours are over." 

He was halfway out of the room when his dad's voice stopped him.

"I'm glad you're here son." Stiles froze, offering a nod, before heading out of the room. He couldn't handle the guilt. The disappointment he heard in his dad's voice whenever he called with reasons he couldn't visit more often, the resignation he saw on his dad's face whenever he packed up to leave after only a few days for Christmas. It was the same old song and dance.

He spoke to a nurse in hushed tones. The broken legs weren't too bad, although he'd be in casts for a while. The shoulder would heal in a few weeks as well. Until then, he needed to take it easy.

The sheriff was out of commission for a while. The thought made Stiles sad, knew that work was what kept his dad occupied now that both him and his mom were gone. He'd have to fill that hole he left while work was off the table.

He fought down the bile that was quickly rising. Once in his jeep, he took as many deep, cleansing breaths as he could before he drove off towards the house. He'd kept his key, just in case. 

The lawn dreadfully needed to be cut, there were a few newspapers in the driveway, but the house didn't look too bad. The inside was good too. Someone was cooking and cleaning, obvious by the food in the fridge and the lack of dishes in the sink. Everything was tidy, almost clinical. He made his way up the stairs, careful not to scrape his bags against the wall, and paused at his old bedroom.

He knew it would look the same as it did the last time he was there, but he stayed at the door. It was only May. The last time he'd been there had been in December, when the kitchen was a disaster zone and the living room looked like a junk yard. Sometime in the past five months, something changed. 

He couldn't help but wonder if the change stretched here too.

After berating himself for postponing the inevitable, Stiles pushed the door open and frowned. The layout was the same. The bed set was changed, primly tucked in hospital corners, but everything else was the same. 

Placing his computer bag on the desk, he noticed that his room had been dusted recently. He dropped his bags on the floor and went to the window, opening it up to let the small breeze through. He moved around the room, inspecting everything, but nothing had changed.

He paused at his dad's door but didn't open it. That was one room he never spent much time in, one he didn't want to go into now.

Stiles made a sandwich, eating it in only a few bites, before checking to make sure he had everything and heading back to the jeep. He drove back down the winding roads to the hospital, pulling into the same spot he'd vacated less than an hour before. He tripped up the stairs into the hospital, frowning when he saw that the visiting hours were posted and said that they'd just ended.

Glinda was still at the desk so he approached calmly, trying to figure out how to word it so that he could go back up to see his dad.

"Hi. I uh... I wanted to check on my dad but the visiting hours..." He gestured helplessly, feeling a little bit of the exhaustion and desperation leak into his bones. She smiled empathetically at him before casting a look around her.

"If you wait until ten, you can sneak in during shift change. Twenty minutes top though. Second floor gets crazy after that." Stiles nodded, whispering a thank you before heading back out to his car. 

It was a little after nine but he wouldn't have time to drive home and get back. Instead he settled in the driver's seat, reclining it a bit so that he could rest a little easier. His mind was going too fast for him to sleep, so he didn't worry about that.

He would be staying in Beacon Hills for a few weeks. He didn't know what that meant. He had to take care of his dad, he knew that. He wanted to alleviate the guilt he felt for leaving like he did.

And really, the reasons he left weren't there anymore. All of his classmates were gone, all of the problems in the past. The only things still there were the memories. The memories of pulling his dad back from the brink after his mom, of them both shutting her out of their memories for as long as they could. Stiles couldn't even remember what she looked like unless he looked at one of the few pictures he had of her.

The memories of every day waking up and worrying he wasn't going to be enough to keep his dad from breaking down again ate at him, caused him to remember why he left. He couldn't handle the pain; he couldn't handle the guilt of not wanting to be the only reason anymore. He didn't want to be a crutch, didn't want to have to hold his dad's hand through the bottles of whisky he tried to hide from Stiles' prying eyes.

Three years, three short years, and he wondered what had changed. He was here now, wanted nothing more than to be enough for his dad. 

Some things, like life threatening car accidents, can change your perspective. 

At just after ten, Stiles snuck into the hospital, tossing Glinda a grateful look, and rode the elevator to the second floor. His dad was awake, eating hospital jello and pudding. Stiles put his hands on his hips as he slipped into the room.

"Pretty sure those aren't on the list for your diet." His dad didn't even bother trying to look innocent.

"I'm hurting here, give me a break." Stiles tried to hide his wince, but his dad must have seen it, because he motioned for Stiles to sit down. After he took his seat, Stiles reached over and grabbed his dad's hand.

"I'm sorry dad. For everything. I shouldn't have left like I did." His dad pulled his hand back to push away the food tray, reaching over and grabbing his son's hand afterwards.

"When you left, I'll admit that I was disappointed. Hurt even. But Stiles, you were doing what was best for you at the time and you know I've never held that against you. Sure I want to see you more than once a year, but we talk. We aren't strangers. And you're happy, aren't you?"

Stiles thought about it. He thought about the job that he loved with the people he hated, the classes he wished he didn't have to take online because he hated the school, the apartment he hated in a town he hated just to get away from a place he thought he hated.

He couldn't tell that to his dad though. Instead he smiled, putting on a brave face the way he used to when he told his dad that everything was okay, and squeezed his dad's hand.

"Yeah, I am. But are you?" The sheriff shrugged his good arm, eyes drawn down to the matching casts on his legs.

"I'll be honest, I'll be happier when I can scratch my foot. It itches like hell."

Stiles laughed, because that was what he was supposed to do, and found that he didn't mind doing what he was supposed to do.

\-----------

He slipped out of the room a little before 10:20, his dad snoring softly into his pillow. He walked to the elevator and hit the down button, eyes widening when the door opened and Melissa McCall stepped out.

"Stiles?" He blinked a few times, barely reaching out to catch the doors before they shut. He slipped into the elevator with his old best friend's mom. She looked the same, young but older than she really was. He accepted the hug she gave him gratefully, squeezing back a little as he did.

"It's been a long time. I heard about your dad. You do know that visiting hours are over, right?" Stiles smiled innocently, a look he perfected in high school.

"Yeah, I'm not buying it. How've you been Stiles?" He mentally sighed as he wondered how many times he was going to get that question now that he was back.

"I've been good. Got the call and headed straight out here." She nodded sadly, casting a glance around them when the doors open. Glinda was talking to a doctor, so they slipped out of the hospital quickly.

"I'm sorry. He's okay though, right?" Stiles nodded, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he looked around the parking lot.

"Two broken legs, his arm was popped out of place, and he's a little banged up. The cruiser is demolished. But he's okay. He's strong."

Melissa looked over Stiles slowly, the knowing look of a mother, before she smiled softly. 

"I feel like I haven't seen you since..." She trailed off as she thought about it and Stiles winced. The last time they'd seen each other wasn't pretty.

"Graduation night. Scott and I got into that huge fight. How is he, by the way?" Melissa sighed, eyes downcast for a moment before she looked back up. He could see the tears she was holding back and Stiles tried not to hug her again.

"He's good. He calls to check in every now and then. He's somewhere on the east coast still, even after..." She gestured to her hand and then raised both hands to tuck her hair behind her ears, subtly wiping her eyes as she did so.

"I'm sorry Ms. McCall." She huffed out a quick breath before smiling.

"Well listen, now that you're in town, I hope to see you a bit more. Maybe not under these circumstances. I'll whip up something for you and your dad for dinner one night, how about that? It'll be just like old times."

Except one chair empty and all three of them trying not to remember the past three years. He thought it but didn't say it. Instead Stiles nodded, hugged the woman who was almost like a second mom to him, and then made his way back to his car.

He stayed there for a few minutes, head pressed against the steering wheel. Seemed like he wasn't the only one that had gotten the hell out of Dodge. Stiles was just the only one that came back.

\------------

Bright and early, Stiles got into the jeep and headed back to the hospital. There was another woman at the front desk, a rude pull to her lips as she eyed him openly as he made his way to the elevators. On the second floor, he headed straight for his dad's room. There was a doctor in there, talking to him about the accident.

"Oh, there he is. Stiles, meet Dr. Hampstead. Doc, this is my son." Stiles shook the doctor's hand, grateful that the man seemed nice enough, before settling down to listen to the conversation.

"The driver was drunk and suffered internal damage. We stabilized him though and he'll be recovering completely."

Stiles zoned out a bit, trying not to listen to how well the guy who crashed into his father was doing. He didn't want to know. He came back to the present when he heard something else.

"It'll be difficult to get around for a while. Your right cast will come off first since that break was superficial and will heal quickly. We'll sign you up for physical therapy afterwards." His dad nodded, eyes shooting over to Stiles not so subtly.

"I'll be here to take care of him for a few weeks. I have no real return date, so we'll work it out. Thank you doctor." The doctor left the room after saying he'd get the paperwork for his release, leaving the two Stilinskis to their own devices.

"You don't have to stay Stiles. There is a program that has an aid come to houses to help and I can--" Stiles shook his head, holding up a hand with a glare.

"I'm doing this dad, so don't bother. Besides, you'd probably talk that poor unsuspecting helper into giving you something unhealthy to eat, and then where would you be?"

His dad rolled his eyes, relief open on his face.

"It was one test result, years ago." Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, one eyebrow raised as he stared down at his dad.

"And have you had a bad test result since then?" His dad looked sheepish and Stiles nodded.

"That's what I thought."

After they signed the paperwork, Stiles helped his dad into the wheelchair. He eyed it with distaste, but they'd had to rent it from the hospital because he'd need a way to get around for a while. Getting his dad into the car took a little finesse and probably more patience than either of them really had, but once he was in and settled, they headed to the house.

"The place looks pretty spiffed up, by the way. I'm going to assume you didn't know you were going to get into an accident and have visitors, so what's the deal?" His dad actually blushed and Stiles blanched, suddenly not wanting to know the answer. Before he could change the subject, his dad started to speak.

"Son, I know it might be a little awkward for you, but I have started dating." Stiles shook his head, desperately trying not to conjure any images to mind.

"I don't want to know the details, God please don't tell me the details. I'm begging you." His dad laughed and the sound loosened the knot in Stiles' stomach.

"I'll spare you the details if you spare me the details of your love life."

Stiles wanted to counter back with 'what love life', but he didn't. He hadn't dated anyone seriously because he hadn't found anyone that he felt that way for, but he did... well, sleep around wasn't the word. He just was open with his attraction to certain people and then never called them back.

To be fair, they never called him back either.

Getting his dad out of the car and into the house was another battle, but they made it in one piece with barely any issues. Inside, his dad lifted himself out of the wheel chair and lowered himself into his recliner, kicking it back so that his feet were elevated. 

Stiles shook his head and went about cooking something for lunch, finding that they slid back into their routine fairly easily. Once lunch was made, Stiles made sure his dad took his pain meds and ate.

"It's not going to be fun taking care of your old man for a couple of weeks Stiles. I know you want to, and lord knows you never do something you don't want to do, but I just don't want you to feel stuck here. I'm just saying that if something comes along, I want you to take the opportunity to do something else."

Stiles nodded, not bothering asking what else could come along in Beacon Hills. He cleaned up after they ate before bringing down some pillows and blankets to make up the couch.

"I think this might be better than trying to carry you up and down the stairs until we can figure something else out." His dad, high as a kite on the pain meds, simply nodded and let Stiles tuck him into the couch. 

It wasn't even late in the afternoon, but he knew his dad would sleep for a while so he locked the house up and headed out; making sure his dad's phone was within reach in case he needed him.

He was going to need to find something to do for the next few weeks.

\-------------

The town library was in the mall, so Stiles headed there first. He could do some window shopping as well, hoping for some inspiration. He felt like everyone was staring at him, even though he knew it was just paranoia. It probably didn't help that he had a guilty conscious. 

He didn't see anyone he knew, which was a small favor. In the library, he checked out a few books that might help with his papers. He was a history major, which he was definitely going to regret because there wasn't much he could do with it, but he loved it.

After checking out the books, he walked around the mall and simply gazed. He felt like someone was following him, but every time he looked behind him there was no one there. He was worrying that his paranoia was starting to manifest physically, but when he turned the corner, he spotted someone watching him from the table in the food court. 

She looked familiar and it only took a moment to connect the red flowing hair with the girl that once haunted his dreams. Lydia Martin was peering at him over her drink, eyebrows furrowed. Probably recognized him but couldn't figure out how. 

He took pity on her and made his way over, smiling as he got closer.

"Lydia." She put her drink down, biting her lip in a way that would have made high school Stiles get flustered but now just made him smile wistfully. It was a lot easier to be in love with her. 

"I know you, don't I?" He shrugged, sitting across from her and tucking his bag at his feet. She didn't say anything about him sitting with her, so he counted that as a win.

"We went to high school together. Weren't really in the same circles." She looked him over once more before smiling.

"Stiles Stilinski." He wasn't sure what jogged her memory, but he smiled and offered a hand.

"Nice to meet you." She laughed but shook his hand. When they separated, he found the silence a little awkward.

"What brings you back to Beacon Hills?" She shrugged, taking another sip of whatever was in the paper cup in front of her. Her eyes strayed over the building, not looking for anything in particular.

"I come back whenever I have a break from school. You know what they say; home is where your heart is." Stiles nodded, not wanting to touch that statement with a ten foot pole.

"And you? I vaguely remember hearing that the sheriff's son went out of town for college and was barely heard from or seen since."

Stiles wanted to ask who said that, but didn't bother. Lydia had a way with words, but something told him she wasn't half as ignorant as she was playing just then.

"My dad was in an accident yesterday. I came straight home to help him." She nodded and pressed her palms together, almost as if she was praying, and tapped her fingers to her lips.

"Are you in town long?" Stiles shifted a bit in his seat, a little uncomfortable to be the focus of her attention.

"As long as I can manage." She nodded once more before dropping her hands and smiling beatifically at him.

"I'm having a gathering for school friends at the end of the school year. My courses this semester ended early so I'm done, but lots of colleges don't release until June. You're more than welcome to come if you're still in town."

He imagined what it would be like, which of their classmates would be there. He wanted to say no, but she was smiling and it felt a little like a challenge. He smiled back and bent down to grab his books.

"If I'm still here, I'd love to."

She pulled her purse out, pulling out a small notepad with what looked like pages of nothing but numbers and scribbles. Good to know she was still a math genius. He wrote down his number when she passed it to him and she smiled as she closed it and placed it back in her purse.

"See you around." He shook his head as she walked off, dumping her drink into the garbage and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

He kind of missed being in love with her.

\-----------

He didn't run into anyone else he knew in the mall. He pulled into the driveway and hoisted his bags up as he made his way to the porch, unlocking the door. His dad was still asleep, so he tiptoed up the stairs to his bedroom. After dropping his stuff off, he plugged in and booted his laptop.

He had a few emails that weren't dire, so he put those off. He checked to make sure he had all of his research for his papers before he started to pull out his books.

Stiles had been working on the first paper for about thirty minutes when he heard the doorbell. He glanced at the time before taking the stairs two at a time. His dad hadn't even shifted, snoring slightly into the back of the couch.

He was smiling as he opened the door, the smile flickering as he saw someone he recognized standing on his porch.

"Hi Glinda." The woman from the hospital was standing on the porch, biting her lip and looking every bit as if she didn't know what to do.

"Hi Stiles. I uh, just wanted to stop by and give your dad this." She lifted up her hand and Stiles recognized the handwriting on the tub marked 'lasagna'. It was the same handwriting on the tubs in the kitchen.

"Oh my god. You're dating my dad." Her eyes went comically wide and she blushed, but Stiles just laughed and ushered her in.

"I'm terribly sorry about this. I was sure your dad would tell you. We've only been seeing one another for a couple of months."

Stiles wanted to ask if it was serious, but he couldn't form the words. If he was honest with himself, he knew that it was because he was worried she would say it was.

"No, it's fine. He told me he was dating, I just didn't realize... uh. Thank you for dropping this off. I'm sure he'll appreciate it." She smiled kindly, warmly at him. The smile loosened the tension from her eyes and Stiles realized she was younger than she seemed. Her blonde hair was worn loosely, much different from the tight up-do at the hospital, but it did wonders to her features.

"It's for both of you. I know you like him to eat healthy and he can't cook to save his life, so I bring over what I can every now and then." 

The admission endeared her to Stiles immediately.

"Do you want to stay until he wakes up? We can all eat together." She smiled, a teary little smile that told Stiles that it was serious between his dad and this woman, and said yes.

"I'd be delighted."

His dad was surprised to wake up and find his son and his girlfriend playing cards on the coffee table. They both helped him to the kitchen table where Glinda distributed the lasagna between their plates.

They talked about how Glinda and his dad had met, during a case, with Glinda smiling smittenly at his dad and calling him "Mark darling" and it was incredibly domestic and adorable and it made something deep inside Stiles ache. 

He excused himself from the table halfway through, telling the two of them he was going for a walk to give them some time alone. His dad watched him walk away, surely worried about his son's quick getaway, but Stiles didn't bother reassuring him.

It wasn't that he was upset because his dad was dating. He was happy for his dad. He wanted his dad to be happy and he genuinely liked Glinda. And it wasn't because he was worried his dad was forgetting his mom. There were still the pictures throughout the house, the brunette woman smiling while holding a young Stiles or in the garden or dancing with her husband, that said he'd never forget her.

Stiles was worried that he was forgetting her. His anger at Beacon Hills, his anger at his mom's passing and everything that happened afterwards ate at him still. Not the anger itself, but the fact that he'd reacted childishly. 

He didn't realize how far he was until he saw the lights from the main part of town. His feet ached and his watch told him he'd been gone for two hours when he finally turned back. It was starting to tinge dark, the almost full moon bright as it started to rise over the trees.

He missed late nights in Beacon Hills. He missed the lack of man made sounds, cars or people in general, taken over by the animal population. He wondered if he still remembered the way to the little pond in the woods...

A pair of headlights came up behind him and he stepped off of the road to keep from being run over. The car slowed down behind him and Stiles turned around, not noticing more than just the shiny black of the car through the lights. 

The car crept along until it was next to Stiles, allowing Stiles to note that it was a Camaro, the passenger window rolling down automatically. Inside sat Derek Hale, one citizen of Beacon Hills Stiles hadn't expected to see.

"Little late for a stroll." Stiles opened his mouth to respond but shook his head instead. After a moment of silence he found he needed to say something.

"I guess so. Didn't realize how far I'd gone. I'm headed home now though." Derek kept the car at a crawl as Stiles started to walk off.

"Get in, I'll drive you home." Stiles froze, turning back to the car with a look that screamed confusion.

"Uh, no thanks? I mean, I'm grateful but I can handle myself."

That drew out a laugh from the older man, one that Stiles tried not to think about. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Derek reached over and popped the door open.

"Get in the car. The sheriff won't appreciate it if something happened to his only son. Call me a good samaritan." Stiles was pretty sure that Derek was anything but a good samaritan, but he didn't move.

"He'd probably appreciate it less if I got in the car with a stranger." Derek smiled, something vaguely feral about the curl of his lips.

"I'm not a stranger. Your dad knows me."

It brought back memories from high school when Derek had been suspected of killing his whole family and a slew of other murders that year. And really if Stiles wanted to trace his issues, he'd probably start with Derek.

"Not just as a suspect in a murder. Get in the car." He finally seemed irritated. It was that and the phantom ache in his feet that made Stiles slide into the Camaro, shutting the door and buckling up.

"Thanks. For the ride." Derek didn't respond, simply started driving once more. There weren't any other cars on the rode, not that Stiles expected there to be. He hadn't seen any cars on the rode on the way out there, but he hadn't been paying attention.

"You have to be careful out here. There've been a lot of animal attacks." Stiles thought about the animal attacks during high school, thought about Scott's pale face as they realized what it all meant, thought about having to handcuff his best friend to a radiator to keep him from terrorizing the town.

"I'll keep that in mind."

He knew who and what Derek Hale was. They'd put two and two together, Scott and him. They'd done a little digging, literally and figuratively. But nothing had come from it and the police had found out, with the help of Derek, that it was actually the other surviving Hale that had gone off his rocker.

It left Stiles with a lot of questions, but Scott had taken the whole topic off the table once Peter Hale had been killed and Scott had been cured. They were still friends, but if Stiles even thought about werewolves, it was like Scott knew and would stop talking to Stiles for weeks on end.

Then he'd moved to the east coast with his girlfriend Allison Argent and... Well, that was another story.

"So you said my dad knew you. What did you mean?" Derek shrugged, but he glanced at Stiles and must have realized that the look he had meant he wasn't giving up unless he knew so Derek answered.

"I've helped your dad out a few times." Stiles waited for him to explain, and when he didn't, he threw his hands up.

"Well thanks for that, not vague or cryptic or anything." Derek let his lips curl up in an amused smile, but it just made Stiles a little uncomfortable to see. He turned to face out of the windshield once more.

They were silent for the rest of the ride until they got to the house. He didn't turn off the car and Stiles didn't wait, simply unbuckled and started out of the car.

"Thanks for the ride." Derek bent down to look at Stiles and smiled again, a little scary.

"Anytime."

Stiles tried not to read into that and headed towards the porch. He was twenty years old; he really didn't need to relive his sexual identity crisis over someone as unattainable as Derek Hale.

\----------

His dad had been asleep on the couch when Stiles had gotten in the night before, so when he woke up to hear his dad calling his name, he was disoriented. He stumbled down the steps until he saw his dad on the couch, sitting upright and in pain.

"Sorry Stiles. Didn't quite think this through I guess. I need my pills and I need to use the bathroom." Stiles grabbed the pill bottles from the far edge of the coffee table, shaking one of each out and handing them to his dad. From there he grabbed a bottle of water for his dad to wash them down with. Once he was done with that, Stiles helped him up and to the bathroom.

After his dad was finished, they hobbled him over to the recliner.

"You sit. I'm going to whip up something for breakfast and take a shower. We'll work on the game plan from there."

Stiles did as he said, cooking a big breakfast and making his dad a plate before running back up the stairs to shower. Once he was scrubbed clean and dressed once more, he ran back down the stairs. His dad wasn't finished with his plate, but Stiles asked if he wanted anything as he ran in to make his own plate.

"Cup of coffee if you would." Stiles smiled as he started a pot of coffee. That was the first thing he should have done. 

"I don't see how this is going to work. I have to have help to the bathroom, I'll need help showering, I can't move three inches without hurting." Stiles sat on the couch, crossing his legs under him as he did so. 

"It's fine dad. Your arm will stop hurting in a few days, your right leg will be healed in a couple of weeks, and then you'll only have one cast."

His dad sighed, taking a long swig of the coffee that Stiles had handed him when he entered the room. 

"What does it say about life that I'm looking forward to a time when I only have one cast?" Stiles laughed, letting the subject rest for the time being. He knew he'd have to listen to his dad complain about having to rely on Stiles, on making Stiles take care of him, but he really didn't mind. 

They ate in silence until their plates were clean. Stiles gathered up the dishes and brought them into the kitchen. As he washed them, he heard his dad call out to him.

"You were gone for quite a while last night. I hope it wasn't something that..." Stiles leaned against the entrance to the living room, staring at his dad as he fumbled for his words.

"It wasn't you or Glinda. She's a really nice woman. And if the hospital gig ever ends, she can definitely go to Vegas. She whooped me at poker."

His dad laughed, agreeing with that.

"So what was it?" Stiles tossed a look at the dishes in the sink. They'd still be there after the conversation. Throwing the rag over his shoulder, he moved into the living room and sat on the arm of the couch facing his dad.

"Being back here, knowing it won't just be for a few days, it's making me think. Before you say I don't have to be here or nothing is expected of me, it's not about that. I want to be here, I want to help you. You need me. I just have a lot on my mind." His dad gestured around the room with his good arm.

"You don't want me to say it, but it's true. You got out of here because of whatever was going on. And I know that I missed a lot when you were in high school. Between burying myself in work and mourning someone that had been gone for a long time, I just wasn't equipped to take care of my also hurting son. I take some of the blame for what went wrong, whatever it was."

Stiles shook his head as he stood up and made his way over to his dad's side, hugging him lightly so that his arm wouldn't hurt.

"You were the best dad I could have asked for. Don't worry about that." His dad nodded, not saying anything to that. The conversation was at rest for now. And maybe Stiles could some day tell his dad everything. He might have to leave out the werewolf bits though.

Speaking of...

"On my walk last night, I had a good samaritan give me a ride home." His dad looked up at him, a little confused.

"Who?" Stiles pulled back and reached up to pull on the rag on his shoulder.

"Derek Hale. He said you knew him, that he helped you out a few times." That made his dad laugh, nodding as he did so.

"You could say that. He's a difficult person to get a read on, but he's a good guy. His family has been in Beacon Hills for generations so he knows a lot about the town. He has a lot of records on the lands. And his family owned a lot of the town. Guess that means he kind of owns it now. I guess he's kind of a confidential informant or something."

Stiles kind of glossed over on the fact that apparently Derek Hale owned a lot of Beacon Hills and latched on to a totally different part of the conversation.

"He's a good guy, huh?" His dad laughed again, raising an eyebrow as he looked up at his son.

"Yeah. I mean, he gave you a ride home. You yourself called him a good samaritan." 

Stiles wanted to say that he didn't, that those had been Derek's words, but he remembered the slow smile, the intense alertness that was directed more at Stiles than the road, and he couldn't form the words.

"Guess so." 

His dad turned a little thoughtful as he looked down at his hands.

"Late last year, he bulldozed the old house, started building a new house somewhere else on the land. He was going to stay at a motel while it was underway, but I offered to let him stay here. He drew the line at sleeping in your room though. Said it didn't feel polite. He slept on the couch for a few weeks. Once the house was structurally sound, he moved in. Did a lot of the work himself."

Stiles was surprised to hear that. Not that Derek had done the work himself, but that he'd bulldozed his house. The surprise must have shown because his dad offered up a small smile.

"That house had a lot of terrible memories. It was good for him to do it. Ever since, the town doesn't walk on eggshells around him. It's like he's gotten his place back. That's good. You need some place to call your own."

With a nod, Stiles made his way towards the kitchen to finish the dishes.

He shrugged it off, sweeping that topic of conversation under the rug with the others they had dropped already that morning. They'd be discovered and brought back to light at various times during his stay, he knew that, but they could withstand not being discussed for the time being.

"I think I'm going to run to the store after while, pick up some groceries. I'll make a list before I go, so think on what I should grab."

Stiles took the stairs two at a time, grabbing one of his research books and a notebook. Then he went back downstairs, handing the remote to his dad and curling up on the couch to work. They stayed like that for a while, with Stiles getting his dad a refill on his coffee at one point.

They talked about what Stiles was researching, on how his classes had been going. If he wondered why Stiles was taking all online classes, he didn't ask, for which Stiles was very grateful. He didn't want to talk to his dad about hating the school but loving his studies. 

After a brief lunch, Stiles made up a list with his dad's help. His dad pointed at his wallet and didn't take no for an answer, telling Stiles to use his card. He finally relented before helping his dad get on the couch to take a nap.

"I hate not having something to do." Stiles laughed and patted his dad on the head before he moved to the front of the room to grab his keys.

"I'll be back soon. I have my phone if you need anything." His dad grunted, already drifting off to sleep. Stiles shook his head and stepped onto the porch.

He was making a mental list of things he had to do while he drove to the store. He needed to check the mail, bring the newspapers inside, and cut the grass. He needed to answer the class survey in his email, finish his paper so he can send it off, return the books, and get the date for his only on campus exam. If it came before his dad was back on his feet, Stiles could just drive to the apartment for the test.

The parking lot of the grocery store wasn't very packed, so Stiles was able to find a parking spot near the front. With as few cars as were there, it was also easy for Stiles to spot the black Camaro parked near the edge. He looked at the stores in front of him, trying to gauge if Derek was in the grocery department or in any of the other stores that line the strip. 

With the list in his hand, Stiles walked into the grocery department. The cashier smiled at him as he made his way past, pushing the shopping cart with one hand. He was going to focus on his shopping and not worry if the man was there. 

He was about half way through the list, only grabbing a few things that they probably didn't need, when he spotted Derek. He had a basket filled with odds and ends and was contemplating the vegetables when Stiles very nearly ran him over with his cart. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't see... you." Derek looked up, eyebrow raised at that greeting, but didn't say anything. Stiles shook off the surprise and angled his cart away, pushing past Derek. He needed to get a few vegetables, but he could wait until Derek was gone.

He doubled back later, once he had watched Derek leave the store, to grab the vegetables on the list. 

When Stiles got home, he checked the mail and grabbed the newspapers after he put the groceries away. His dad had woken up and started on one of the crosswords while Stiles started dinner when there was a knock on the door. 

Stiles glanced out of the window and smiled. Glinda was on the porch once more, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth until Stiles opened the door. At that point, she smiled, a little nervously.

"I hope I'm not intruding?" Stiles shook his head and opened the door wider for her to come in. She had another container under her arm, but it looked like dessert this time. 

"You're welcome to come every night if you keep bringing food. That lasagna was amazing." Glinda smiled at the olive branch that Stiles extended before sitting down next to her... boyfriend?

The thought of Stiles' dad being someone's boyfriend was simultaneously terrifying and cute. 

They ate the fajitas that Stiles had made with easy conversation between them. Glinda had brought a delicious chocolate cake, the healthy version, for them to eat. His dad didn't even complain about it lacking in unhealthy ingredients. 

Like the night before, Stiles slipped out of the kitchen, this time after telling Glinda that the cake was delicious for her not to bother with the dishes. He grabbed his wallet and keys and slipped out of the house, sliding into the jeep and aiming out of the heart of the town.

There was a small bar and grill on the edge of town, one that was basically not even in Beacon Hills, that had a habit of not carding. Stiles was relying on that fact as he pulled into the parking lot. He didn't want to get drunk, but he'd like to have a few drinks. Might help to keep his mind from going places he didn't want it to.

\----------

Stiles woke up in bits and pieces. He didn't remember going to sleep. He remembered getting to the bar, the bartender not even giving him a glance as Stiles ordered a beer, and a second beer, and a third. After that, things got fuzzy.

He rolled over, trying to keep in a groan, when he realized that something wasn't right. He fought the edges of sleep until he was able to open his eyes. Something was definitely not right. His comforter wasn't white, his pillows weren't quite this soft, and the sunlight didn't pour in through the window onto his bed. He sat up, his vision swimming as his head throbbed. 

A hangover while he was somewhere that definitely wasn't his house. He was starting to add things up and not like what he was getting. There wasn't anyone else in the bed with him, but the sheets were mussed in a way that spoke volumes. There weren't any photos in the room, so that didn't tell him who it was. 

Shit.

He started to throw the blanket off of him but stopped when the bedroom door opened. Standing there holding Stiles' jeans was Derek. He fought back a groan. Oh yeah. This couldn't get worse.

"You snore when you're drunk." Stiles wanted to scoff but he didn't. He minutely shifted on the bed and was a little disappointed that he wasn't sore. Maybe they didn't have sex. 

"Don't bother trying to talk yourself out of it. If we didn't do something, do you think I'd have to retrieve your pants from the hallway?"

Stiles groaned, greeted with a sore throat. Either from yelling, because he was definitely a screamer, or from... 

"Didn't know you swung that way." Derek raised an eyebrow at that.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about the way I swing?" Stiles opened his mouth and then shut it quickly. He gave it a moment before trying a different tactic.

"Can I have my pants back please?" His voice was hoarse and Stiles wanted to die. Derek was staring at him knowingly, still standing at the bedroom door. He swung them by the belt loop, back and forth like a pendulum.

"Come and get them." Swallowing his tongue, Stiles looked around for the rest of his clothes. He checked under the blanket and was grateful to see he was at least still wearing his boxers. His shirt was on the floor near his side of the bed. He took a deep breath and stood up after snagging his shirt and made his way to Derek.

The older man didn't move an inch but his eyes roamed over Stiles' body as he walked. It was a little gratifying actually.

He grabbed his pants and hobbled to pull them on, trying to retain some dignity. He was hungover, he had horrendous morning breath, he apparently gave Derek head the night before, and all he wanted to do was find his shoes, wallet, and keys so he could leave.

"Your shoes and socks should be in the living room." Stiles nodded, ducking around Derek and towards what he hoped was the living room.

The new house wasn't big. It looked like it might have two bedrooms, or a bedroom and a study, as well as a nice sized kitchen slash dining room and a living room. He pulled on his socks and then fought his feet into his shoes.

"You wouldn't happen to know where my wallet and keys are, would you?" He didn't want to ask, but he figured he'd have a lot more luck getting out of there if he didn't have to play hide and seek with his belongings.

"Your wallet is in my car. As are your keys. And your phone."

Stiles tried not to swear. Of course he wouldn't have his car there. He had been too drunk to remember anything, which really sucked, so he had definitely been too drunk to drive.

"So how--" Derek was in the hallway, probably where Stiles' pants had been the night before, and smiled mockingly.

"The bartender cut you off and had to call someone to get you. When he asked what your name was so he could figure out who to call, you told him Derek Hale. I've been there a few times so they know me. The bartender called me, described you, and I told him I'd be out there to collect you. Don't worry, I told him you were my cousin Miguel." 

Stiles opened his mouth but snapped it shut at the memory. Yeah, he knew that was going to come back to bite him in the ass. Definitely better than having his face slammed into his steering wheel, that's for sure.

"Well if you let me grab my stuff, I'll call a cab and be out of here in no time." Derek shook his head, pushing off of the wall and moving into the kitchen where he grabbed an apple and threw it at Stiles. It bounced off his chest but he caught it before it fell.

"I'll drive you to the bar. You can get grab your car and go home from there."

Why didn't he see that coming?

He asked the use the bathroom, with Derek jerking his head to the side to tell him where it was. After using the bathroom, he used the mouth wash on the counter and then stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were red rimmed, the skin of his neck bruised and scratched. Hickies and stubble burn? Yeah. His dad was definitely going to know what happened.

His dad! He swore loudly and left the bathroom, nearly colliding with Derek as he did so.

"I really got to go get my car. Like now." He expected Derek to have a smart come back, but instead he nodded and they left the house, Derek locking the door behind them.

He slipped his keys and wallet in his pocket, thumbing through his phone to find that he had a missed call and two texts.

 _You coming home tonight kiddo?_ followed by _I'm taking that as a no. Glinda is staying the night. Be safe._

Besides the fact that apparently while Stiles was sexing up Derek, his dad was... nope. He wasn't going to think about that. He focused instead on the fact that hopefully that meant his dad hadn't been left to his own devices.

They drove in silence for a while, not even the radio on. Once again Derek had the sense of being intensely alert, but not just on the road. Stiles tried to remember what happened, tried to remembering anything from the night before, but he couldn't.

He really wished he could remember it.

He didn't realize he'd said that last bit out loud until Derek turned to him.

"Really?" Stiles was quiet for a second before Derek nodded, slow like he wasn't sure what he was agreeing to. Then he cast a glance to the road in front of them and pulled off on a side road.

There was no shortage of side roads in Beacon Hills. He turned the car off and turned to look at Stiles, eyes roaming over his face, lingering on the bites and irritation on his neck before they disappeared under the collar of his shirt.

"When I got you in the car, you were babbling incoherently. It wasn't until we were on your road that you sobered up. Minutely, but enough. You put your hand on my thigh and told me to take you to my house."

Stiles couldn't see himself being that forward while sober, so it was probably true. He was a little distracted because Derek had dropped his hand to Stiles' thigh in example, the weight of it warm through his jeans.

"I guess you asked me if I was sure or if it was just the alcohol talking." Derek smiled, something akin to a shark, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine.

"You are putting too much weight on one noble gesture. No, I made a u-turn right there in the middle of the street."

Stiles felt his stomach twist a bit at the admission. Derek had apparently really wanted to... no. He wouldn't think about that either.

"And then?" He hadn't meant to say it, but he did. Derek closed his eyes as if he was thinking about it, trying to pull it back to the forefront of his mind. He licked his lips, running his tongue over them slowly as he thought about it. The mere sight did unseemly things to Stiles' insides.

"You leaned over the seat and kissed my neck. Bit down too." Using his free hand, he moved the top of his shirt to show a vivid purple bruise, a set of bite marks around it. The sight of it sent a pulse of white hot heat through Stiles but he shook it off. 

"You slipped your hand down my chest, unbuttoned my pants and stuck your hand in." He lowered the hand from his shirt, down the route that Stiles' hand had made the night before. He slouched in the seat as his hand got to the waist of his jeans. 

Stiles half expected Derek to unbutton his pants and stick his hand in, but he didn't. He skimmed his middle finger over the fly of his jeans before it tightened into a fist and landed on his thigh. The hand on Stiles' thigh tightened a little before it moved back to his lap.

His breath was coming out in pants. He knew that Derek could hear it, could hear his accelerated heart rate, and could probably smell his arousal. It didn't matter.

"What happened next?" Derek opened his eyes, shocking Stiles with the flash of blue that came with it. He had probably been trying to control that little urge. 

The mere thought made it all so much hotter.

"We barely made it into the house before you were taking off your shoes and pants. Then in the hallway, you pushed me against the wall, pulled my pants and boxers down, and deep throated me."

Stiles could feel himself hardening in his pants, his cock desperately trying to get the conversation to go to a reenactment instead. He couldn't help the little glance down to Derek's lap, noticing that his wasn't the only one interested. 

When he looked back up, he saw that Derek's eyes were locked on Stiles' lips. He was probably thinking about the blowjob, the same way that Stiles desperately wished he could remember it. He wanted to remember the taste, the feel of Derek's cock in his mouth. He'd give anything to remember.

"You told me to fuck your mouth. So I did." Stiles had been graced with no gag reflex, something his previous hookups had been very appreciative about.

He wet his lips, trying not to break the spell that had been woven around them. Derek tracked the movement with his eyes, swaying just the tiniest bit in his seat almost as if he wanted... something. 

Stiles didn't bother being subtle as he adjusted himself. Derek's eyes followed his hands and lingered for a moment before moving slowly back up to his face.

"What then?" His voice came out as a croak. He was surprised to see Derek's eyes flash at the sound, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed before he spoke next.

"I came and you swallowed every drop." That was interesting. Stiles wasn't big on swallowing, although he wasn't against it. He usually didn't swallow the first time though. It would be expected of him every time if he did.

He swallowed again, trying to get some moisture back into his mouth, and watched Derek zero in on the movement. He seemed very attuned to every move that Stiles made.

"After that, we made it to the bedroom. You got yourself off by rubbing against me while we made out. You made promises of a second round, but you fell asleep." 

Stiles felt a little embarrassed by that, but he couldn't help it. He finds out that he got off with Derek freaking Hale and then fell asleep. Well, he was pretty drunk. Excruciatingly drunk apparently.

Breathing hard, trying to reign in his arousal before he did something even more embarrassing like climbing over the console and straddling Derek's lap in the car, Stiles forced himself to break eye contact. He could hear Derek's breathing, long and deep as if he was controlling it.

Good to know he wasn't the only one affected by what Derek was saying. Although Derek was reliving it while Stiles was just imagining it.

After a few more moments of silence, Stiles was jerked out of his musings by the car starting up. Derek didn't say anything as he reversed out of the side street and pulled back onto the main road headed towards the bar. 

Stiles had to focus on that to keep from doing something drastic. He didn't come back to Beacon Hills for some great love affair. He came back for his dad. He kept thinking on that as they drove, subtly glancing at Derek every few minutes. It didn't help his resolve to catch Derek looking at him every few minutes.

When they pulled in to the bar parking lot, Derek left the car running. Stiles fished out his keys, clutching them tightly in his hand until the edges bit into his skin. He used it to clear his head, but one look at Derek had his thoughts fuzzy again.

"Thanks for the... thanks." Derek smirked, eyes trained on the windshield. Stiles felt dismissed but as he reached for the handle of the door, Derek's voice stopped him.

"If you ever feel up to that second round, you should let me know." Stiles bit his lip, casting a look over his shoulder as he thought about it.

Derek wasn't asking him for a date, he wasn't courting him. It was sex. Stiles could do that. He turned around, unbuckling as he did so, and leaned over the console. His movement caused Derek to turn to him, and once they were eye to eye, Stiles ducked in and crashed his mouth to Derek's.

The result was amazing. One of Derek's hands came up to cradle the back of Stiles' head, pulling him in closer and harder, mouths moving against one another. It took a bit but Stiles pulled back, not deepening the kiss beyond just the slick glide of lips. He was breathing hard but so was Derek, pupils blown wide as he looked from Stiles' eyes to his lips.

"I'll let you know."

He slipped out of the car and made his way to his jeep, unlocking it and sliding into the driver's seat. The Camaro drove off, leaving Stiles alone to his thoughts.

He had been looking for a way to waste time while stuck here while his dad healed up. Maybe he just found it.

\----------

Of course it didn't occur to Stiles until he was at home and avoiding his dad's questions on where he'd been the night before that he didn't have Derek's number. He hadn't even really been paying attention on the drive from his house to the bar, so he couldn't just show up and hope for the best.

That left him with two options. He could wait until he ran into him on accident, that wasn't a big deal. Or, he could ask his dad for his number. Which was a new level of awkward that Stiles wasn't willing to risk.

He decided to just wait until he ran into him again. Beacon Hills wasn't a large town, and what with Derek's habit of just appearing whenever Stiles was thinking about him apparently, it seemed like it would happen soon enough.

With avoiding his dad's questions, trying to help his dad out around the house, working on his papers, and jerking off in the shower, Stiles hadn't even thought about the full moon. He didn't think about it until he stepped onto the front porch after dinner with his dad, Glinda having to work at the hospital, and saw the reflection in the windshield of his car.

He hadn't spent much time worrying about the full moon since Scott was cured. For the first few months he worried, seemed to think that once the supernatural was introduced into your life, it'd never go away. But time went on and nothing happened, so he stopped thinking about it. 

It was always there at the back of his mind, but it wasn't something he had to focus on. And then he'd left for college and he'd tried to shut that part of his mind off.

Now he was home and vaguely entering into a fuck-buddy-ship with one of those supernatural things and he wondered if maybe he'd been right. Once it was introduced to your life, it never went away.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a series of footfalls. He knew it wasn't his dad, because he couldn't walk and it was coming from the side of the house. He didn't have anything handy to defend himself with, but he stayed on the porch and waited.

It was as if something told him he didn't need to worry, because when the shadow came forth, Stiles didn't even blink. However once the porch light lit up the person, Stiles knew why. 

"You shouldn't be outside on the full moon."

Stiles looked over his shoulder into the living room, seeing his dad snoring peacefully on the couch, before he went down the steps and joined Derek.

"Is this the part where you tell me about all the evil things that come out on the full moon?" Derek laughed, a brush of warm air going over Stiles' face with it. He hadn't realized how close he'd stepped to Derek when he got off the porch.

"I am one of those evil things." 

Stiles wanted to say that he didn't believe that, that Derek wasn't evil, but he wasn't going to get into that. It was none of his business, as far as he saw, if Derek wanted to trash talk himself like that.

"Should I be scared of you then?" He heard Derek take a deep breath and Stiles found himself holding his own breath, waiting for the answer. 

"Yes." His voice was quiet, to the point that Stiles wasn't sure he really heard it, but then he didn't have to think about it. Derek grabbed Stiles' hips and pulled him the last few inches, his mouth dropping down to Stiles' without an issue.

If Stiles was so inclined, he could mention how perfectly they fit together like that, how Derek's mouth had found his without hesitation. He kept it to himself.

Stiles reached up until he could hook one arm around Derek's neck, pulling him closer and angling their heads to make it easier to deepen the kiss. He waited for Derek to do it, but after finally getting tired of waiting, he opened his mouth and let his tongue slip out, licking into Derek's mouth the moment he opened his mouth wide enough.

From there, Derek turned them until his back was against the wall and Stiles was pressed along his front. They traded control of the kiss, with Stiles quickly losing grasp of what was going on and wanting nothing more than to crawl into the kiss and never leaving.

Finally they had to pull back, for air more than anything, but before they could dive back into it, Stiles saw that Derek's eyes were glowing blue. 

"You sure you should be pushing it like this? Isn't your control the worse on full moons?" Derek sighed, closing his eyes and breathing through his mouth. Stiles thought he'd help by stepping away, but Derek didn't let him get far. He kept his fingers clenched around Stiles' belt loops, keeping him only an arm's length away.

"I didn't realize you were the expert on werewolf dos and don'ts." Stiles laughed, wanting nothing more than to lean back into Derek's space and kiss him once more.

Who knew that kissing could be addictive?

"I had to figure things out on my own when Scott was bit. It was either that or..." He left the sentence to the silence, not wanting to bring back those memories and old hurts. Derek seemed to know what he meant anyways, and why he stopped the words from coming out, because he pulled Stiles back in until their lips were barely touching.

He pulled Stiles' phone out of his front pocket, the backs of his fingers brushing against the hard length of Stiles' cock in his pants. He kept the moan in by biting his lip and Derek, at seeing that, leaned forward and kissed the area until Stiles was gasping into it.

He felt his phone drop back into his pocket but he ignored the weight of it, focusing on the shape of the man in front of him. His fingers were mapping out the contours of Derek's back through the thin tshirt, wanting nothing more than to pull it off and try to chase the goosebumps with his lips.

"Go inside and stay there Stiles. I'm not the only thing out tonight." Stiles didn't like the sound of that but he didn't push the subject. Instead he pressed his mouth quickly to Derek's and pulled back slowly.

Derek waited until Stiles was inside of the house before he turned around and went back the way he came. Stiles watched him from the front window, waiting until he was gone before fishing into his pocket for his phone. He opened it up and went to his contacts, smiling when he saw Derek's name and number.

He had mad skill, kissing Stiles and entering his information like that. Stiles opened up a text message and typed up a short message.

_and now you have my number._

He put his phone back in his pocket and moved into the kitchen, doing the dishes as quietly as he could. His dad was dead to the world, so he wasn't too worried about waking him up, but he didn't want to risk it.

When he finished, he checked his phone and smiled when he saw the notification. He opened the text and smiled even wider.

_what makes you think I didnt already have it?_

He typed up his response and shoved his phone back into his pocket as he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom.

_because that would mean you came all this way just to check on me._

He sat at his desk to work on his paper, putting his phone next to the computer just in case, but it didn't light up. He wondered if that was a good or bad thing. He focused on his paper, pushing all thoughts of the text messages and the meanings to the back of his mind while he worked. When he got through all he could handle, he sighed and looked back down at his phone. It was blinking with a text message.

_not at all._

The timestamp said the text was an hour in difference. Either Derek got distracted, which was likely, or he just couldn't figure out what to say.

The thought that he'd somehow stumped the older man made Stiles' head swim. He wasn't sure what that meant.

\---------

Stiles had been in Beacon Hills for just over a week before he got up the courage to call Derek about the offer. He hadn't seen him since the night of the full moon, hadn't heard from or spoken to him. He kept busy, helping his dad was a full time job really, but when his dad had said that he wanted some alone time with Glinda, Stiles had jumped on the excuse.

"Stiles." The older man's voice was warm, not half as standoffish as usual. Stiles ducked out of the room so that his dad wouldn't overhear the conversation.

"Hey. Listen, I was thinking about what we talked about in the car. If you're still up for it, I'm free tonight."

There was a noise in the background, one that took Stiles a moment to figure out. It was voices. One sounded closer than the others, low and garbled so that Stiles couldn't understand the words.

"Yeah. I'll be free after ten. You remember the way?" Stiles thought about it but he couldn't remember. He didn't want to admit that, but it would be easier than whatever lie he could come up with.

"Not really." He heard the noise level rise and then Derek said something and there was laughter and then the noise quieted down a bit.

"I'll meet you at the same place. You can follow me." Stiles nodded although he knew Derek couldn't see him.

"Alright. I'll meet you there at 10:30?" Derek murmured his agreement before they hung up. He'd have to leave the house a little earlier than that because his dad and Glinda would want... time together. The thought actually made Stiles feel a little ill.

No one ever wanted to think about their dad like that. It just wasn't fun.

After dinner, provided by Glinda, and dessert, provided by Stiles, he retired to his bedroom to gather a few things. Change of clothes, toothbrush and toothpaste, lube and condoms. He threw it all into his old book bag and then hoisted it onto his shoulder. He made his way down the stairs and smiled at the image that Glinda and his dad made, sitting on the couch and whispering to one another.

"Okay you two, I'm heading out. I have my cell if you need me. If there is an emergency, call 911. Don't watch scary movies or eat too many sweets before bed. Be sure to wash behind your ears and say your prayers." Glinda was smiling delightedly at Stiles while his dad simply rolled his eyes.

"Yes dad. Now go on, get." Stiles saluted his dad before he left the house, nearly tripping in his haste to get to the jeep.

It was almost nine, meaning he had an hour and a half to kill before he would be meeting up with Derek. He drove through town, stopping at a gas station to get a drink and fill up his gas tank. After that, he drove to a deserted parking lot and killed the engine. 

His nerves were getting the best of him. It was just sex, something he'd done plenty of times before. Of course it hadn't been with anyone like Derek. The man probably scowled during sex. The image made Stiles laugh, the tension in his shoulders loosening up a bit.

He could do it. He knew that he affected Derek the same that he was. He'd seen it in the car when Derek had told him about that night, felt it against his leg when they'd made out against the side of the house.

Nothing to worry about. At ten on the dot, Stiles turned the jeep back on and headed towards the bar, going slow. He still made it with fifteen minutes to kill, so he went inside and got a soda. The bartender had to have recognized him but didn't say anything.

At ten thirty-three, the door opened. Stiles glanced over and felt his stomach tighten at the sight of Derek. He was wearing dark jeans and a light gray tshirt, but he looked... delectable. Fuck. Stiles wanted to take him right then and there, but he knew that wouldn't be good.

Public indecency. His dad would be so disappointed.

Derek walked up to him, nodding to the bartender as he sat beside Stiles. He expected to just get up and walk out, because he didn't think sitting and chatting was on the agenda for the night, but Derek ordered 'what he's having' with a gesture to Stiles as he sat down.

"You're going to be disappointed." Derek rolled his eyes as the drink was passed to him.

"It's not like I can get drunk anyways." He took a sip of the soda and looked confused for a second before he turned a surprised look towards Stiles.

"I half expected you to be drunk again." Stiles took a sip of his drink to hide the blush he felt on his cheeks. He was sure Derek saw it anyways.

"Is there a particular reason?" Derek shrugged, taking a sip out of his drink before pushing it away.

"Not really. Just figured you'd need to be drunk to have sex with me." 

Stiles spluttered because although that's why they were meeting up, he couldn't believe Derek would just come out and say it. Especially with the bartender so close. The man didn't even look up though, so maybe he hadn't heard.

"I really don't need to be drunk to do this with you. I want to remember this." Derek stared down at Stiles when he said that, eyes unreadable in the dim light of the bar. He held his breath, wondering if it was something he said, but he didn't need to worry. Derek bent down, pressing his mouth against the shell of Stiles' ear.

"We should really get out of here before I bend you over this bar, right here and right now."

What blood could be spared from Stiles' face went straight to his groin. He groaned, slapping a bill on the table to cover his and Derek's drinks before grabbing Derek's arm and pulling him from the establishment.

They were barely out of the door before Stiles spun around and pressed himself up against Derek, hooking his hand behind his head and pulling him down so that their mouths could clash together, tongues fighting for control in a kiss that was more desperation than anything.

"We need to get out of the parking lot before Mike steps out and sees me kissing my cousin."

Stiles laughed into the kiss, slowing it down until they could separate without chasing one another for another kiss. At that point, both of them were breathing hard and their fingers were clutching at shirts to keep from wandering.

"Do you want to ride with me or do you want to follow me?" Stiles wanted to ride with Derek, mostly because then he'd be able to touch him as they drove, but he shook his head. He didn't want to rely on Derek to get him back out there to get his car if this went badly.

"I'll follow you." Derek nodded, looking very much like he was resisting pulling Stiles back in for another kiss before he walked over to his car. Stiles sprang into action, going over to his jeep and climbing into the car, palming his erection in an effort to stay the arousal a bit.

"God this man is going to be the death of me." 

He followed the Camaro, his tail lights basically sitting on the man's bumper the whole ride. He paid attention to the roads and landmarks so he could get home by himself in the morning.

Or, the little voice in the back of his head said, so that he could come back out here whenever he wanted to.

The road that Derek lived off of, the same road his old house was off of, was long and winding and completely void of any other houses. They owned the whole land and Stiles wasn't sure, but he thought the road was actually a dead-end. He recognized the driveway they turned into so he turned off the car once he was parked beside Derek’s car. He waited a second before grabbing his bag from the passenger seat and slipped out of the car, locking it as an after thought.

They made their way into the house silently, none of the desperation from the first night. Stiles wasn't sure if this was a one off, wasn't sure if he'd only get this one chance to remember it, so he planned on making it count either way.

He dropped his bag next to the sofa, toeing off his shoes and socks beside it. Derek moved into the kitchen, doing something next to the fridge that Stiles couldn't see. He didn't know how this should work, if he should just pounce on Derek or if he should let it build.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" Stiles shifted where he stood before poking his head around the wall. Derek was at the sink, running water over some dishes in there. 

"I didn't realize I was being wined and dined too." He hadn't meant to say it out loud, hadn't realized that even whispering it would mean that Derek would hear it. He watched as Derek's back tensed. When he turned around, his face was as unreadable as ever.

"Of course. Well, shall we get to it then?" He marched past Stiles, pulling his shirt off and throwing it off to the side. 

Not wanting it to go like that, Stiles reached out and stopped Derek's progression with a hand on his arm.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just... what do you want from this Derek? I don't know what this is." Derek didn't move, didn't budge an inch, but Stiles could feel the difference. His skin seemed to loosen, his muscles release from the clench they were in.

"It's sex, Stiles."

He wanted to ask if that was all, because there seemed to be something in Derek's tone that said something else, but he turned to look at Stiles and he forgot what he was thinking. He forgot how to think. A look could do that. 

Stiles was seriously fucked.

Derek bent down, skipping over Stiles' mouth and latching onto his neck, teeth scraping over a mark that should have been healed by then. Stiles arched into the touch, but before he could really get into it, Derek pulled back.

"I'm sure you remember the way to the bedroom." Stiles nodded, trying to find his voice, but decided that it wasn't important. He lowered the hand he had still pressed against Derek's arm, skimming his fingers over his arm and wrist, dropping his hand before he touched Derek's hand.

They made their way into the bedroom, with Stiles pulling Derek onto the bed when he hesitated by the foot. They fell into a heap, both on their sides and facing one another. 

Stiles hadn't done this, gone to someone's house with every intention of sleeping together. There was always a pretense for more, studying or borrowing something, that just ended in a quick roll between the bed sheets. But now he was there, pressed up against Derek and staring into his eyes in the dark bedroom, breaths coming through shallow, knowing that they were going to have sex. Knowing that that's all it was going to be.

For the first time, he felt a pull behind his navel that said maybe he could have more. He looked at Derek, found himself really looking at the other man, and felt the rejection of it. He could have more if it meant more no strings attached sex. If he wanted the other man on a more permanent basis, he was out of luck.

Good thing he knew that going in. At least he wouldn't get hurt that way.

Making the first move, Stiles bent his neck upwards and closed his teeth on Derek's bottom lip, pulling it lightly before opening his mouth and slicking his tongue over the injured area. Derek sighed against Stiles' mouth, skimming his fingers up to Stiles' neck and pressing against the pulse.

They stayed like that for a while, trading breathless, dirty kisses until Derek growled, pushing with his body until he was on top of Stiles. He grasped Stiles' hips and with a little leverage got them pushed up the rest of the bed until their heads were on the pillows. 

"Clothes. Off." Stiles didn't dignify that with a response, simply wiggled to get his shirt off and thrown away. Then came the fun give and take of them getting their pants off, Stiles in a rush to feel the skin he didn't remember and Derek just rushing to get them there. He made a calming noise in the back of his voice as Stiles got frustrated with his belt. 

He grabbed both of Stiles' hands and pushed them upwards until they were flat under the pillow on either side of his head. He bent down, licking a stripe up his neck, stopping just below his earlobe.

"Leave them there for now. If you need to, grab the headboard." Stiles made a downright desperate sound at that, one that Derek rewarded by nibbling on his earlobe while he reached between them and undid his belt.

Derek made quick work with Stiles' pants, pulling them off along with his boxers. He thumbed the button of his own pants before grinning wickedly and bending down, breathing hotly on the head of Stiles' cock.

"I've been thinking about this for a while." Stiles was writhing under Derek's grip on his hips, trying to get that mouth closer but he didn't budge. He watched Derek peek up, could see him staring at him with his mouth open and tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He couldn't help it. He let out a low moan, biting his lip at the end, and flexed his hips again.

"Fuck, Derek, please." And please was the magic word. Derek bent down, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking. Stiles moaned again, chewing on his lip so much that it was starting to hurt. His fingers had ached to get out from under the pillow, to bury in Derek's hair, so he lifted them and wrapped them around the bars of the headboard.

Derek saw it and groaned around Stiles' cock, the groan vibrating to Stiles' core, before he sunk down further, taking as much in his mouth as he could and working the rest with his hand. 

Stiles mumbled under his breath, trying to keep his noises to a minimum. It wasn't that he was self conscious, but he could hear Derek moaning around the cock in his mouth and those noises were just so much more important to him. 

When he felt himself getting close, he mumbled a warning and was surprised when Derek completely backed off, simply pressing against his hips but not touching his cock at all.

"Fuck, that's cruel." Derek grinned the shark's grin once more before he stretched up, the fabric of his jeans rubbing harshly against Stiles' already sensitive skin. Stiles started a low chant of swears, burying them into Derek's neck as Derek shifted his hips a bit.

"Don't hold it in. I want to hear. There isn't anyone around for miles." Stiles groaned, loud and long. 

"If you don't get your pants off and get on with this show, I'm going to ask for a refund." Derek laughed, tilting his head so that he could kiss Stiles deeply, tongue fucking into his mouth in a facsimile of what he wanted right then.

While he was distracted with the kissing, he missed Derek getting out of the rest of his clothes. He would have been disappointed, but the feel of skin on skin was more than enough to make up for it. 

"So how are we doing this?" Stiles couldn't help the shift of his hips, rubbing against Derek's cock in slow circles. His hands had abandoned their posts and were now wrapped around Derek's biceps, trying to hold him close.

"Well I was really hoping you'd get around to fucking me, but you seem to be just a great big cocktease." Derek laughed once again and that was something Stiles couldn't get over. He imagined Derek scowling during sex, he didn't even think that Derek would let loose and actually enjoy it.

Putting it that way, it made perfect sense. Stiles felt a little incredibly honored to see it.

"Your wish is my command." He slithered, actually downright slithered, over Stiles to get to the night stand, pulling out a strip of condoms and a container of lube. Stiles bit his lip as he looked down at them. Right there in easy access. 

It shouldn't bother him, because this was just sex, but he could feel a spark of jealousy low in his stomach. He pushed it away, wrapping one leg around Derek's hips. He had him now. That's what mattered.

Derek popped the cap on the lube and squirted a little onto his fingers, reaching down to rub his forefinger against Stiles' hole. He moaned at the touch, shifting his hips in a vain attempt to get it inside.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. I can take it, c'mon." Derek groaned before pushing his first finger in. The look on his face was of satisfaction and surprise. Stiles gasped wiggling his hips against the finger, forcing Derek's hand to move a bit.

"I had three fingers in while taking a shower. I can take more, c'mon."

The admission made Derek groan loudly. He buried the noise against Stiles' hip, biting onto the skin over the bone as he pulled the finger out and added a second one. He didn't do more than twist them, barely grazing Stiles' prostate, before he pulled them out, coated them once more and pushed three in.

The stretch was amazing. Derek's fingers were different than Stiles', felt wonderful. It felt like every nerve ending in his body was on fire. He twisted his hips, clenching his muscles around the fingers as Derek started to thrust them in and out. His prostate was getting rubbed lightly, more of a skim than anything, and it wasn't doing much to keep Stiles from screaming.

"I'm good, I'm good, I'm so good, c'mon." Derek laughed breathlessly, bending up to claim Stiles' mouth in a passionate and absolutely bruising kiss. He pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the sheets before tearing off a condom. 

He handed the wrapper to Stiles, watching as he eyed it greedily.

"Put it on me." His voice was low, wrecked. Stiles felt his breath catch and he sat up, taking the condom from Derek's hand. He opened the wrapper, tossing it off the bed. Derek used one hand to steady his cock while Stiles put it on the tip. With his own wicked grin, Stiles bent down and slid the condom on with his mouth.

"Fuuuuck." Stiles preened a bit at the tone, grabbing Derek's shoulders and pushing him back so that his head was at the foot of the bed, their feet kicking off the pillows. Stiles moved to straddle Derek's waist, biting his lip as he held Derek's cock steady to enter him.

He sank down inch by agonizing inch. He was prepped thoroughly enough, the stretch and burn not overshadowing the immense pleasure. Derek alternated between watching Stiles' face and watching where he was entering him. 

Once he was fully down, ass pressed to Derek's lap, he couldn't help but clench around the intrusion as he shifted his hips. Derek swore a blue streak before leaning up, holding his weight with one arm. The other grabbed Stiles' neck and pulled him down, teeth clashing as they kissed painfully. They moved slowly at first but once Stiles was accustomed to the stretch, he started to bounce more, pull almost all the way off before sinking back down. Derek kept his own hips circulating, pushing up to meet Stiles' downward thrusts, offsetting his moans with some of his own.

Stiles pulled at Derek's shoulder, trying to convey without words what he wanted. His voice was gone, promptly fucked out of him and leaving him with nothing but noises to shout as he was speared into over and over again. Derek got the message though, loud and clear, and between thrusts he pulled out and rolled them over. Stiles shook his head when he was on his back and rolled over so that he was on his hands and knees.

Derek ran his hand over the bumps of Stiles' back before holding his ass open, slipping his cock back in. He thrust forward enough that the bed seemed to jerk a bit. Stiles gasped, noises being rocked out of him with Derek's thrusts.

"Come on, don't stop." Stiles whined, although he was going to deny that if asked, as he arched his back to take Derek deeper. He craned his neck and Derek lunged forward, their mouths meeting instantly. It wasn't even a kiss anymore, simply sharing breath. Derek used one hand to keep him anchored to Stiles and the other wormed around his hip, curling over Stiles' balls before wrapping around his neglected cock.

"Shit shit shit, yes, fuck." He could feel Derek laughing against his back, but it didn't matter. Derek's pumps weren't the same as his thrusts, but it didn't matter. Stiles felt himself tense as he came, clenching down hard against Derek's cock. Once he was finished, Derek's hand no longer milking the excess from him, he groaned and let his face fall into the pillow.

It left his ass in the air, and so Derek knew that this didn't mean it was over, he clenched once more as he pulled his hips forward and slammed them back again. Derek took it as the go ahead and continued to slam into Stiles', his free hand sliding up Stiles' arm to entwine their fingers together, until his own orgasm course through him. Stiles could feel it, although the condom was keeping it inside. It didn't matter, fuck it didn't matter, because Stiles never wanted it to end.

Derek pulled out of Stiles, leaving his hole feeling empty and properly used. He slumped onto the bed, not even caring that he was in the wet spot. He watched Derek tie off the condom and throw it away before he disappeared into the hallway.

He came back, not caring that he was still naked, carrying a washcloth. He tossed it onto Stiles.

"Clean yourself up before you congeal to the bed." Stiles laughed, rolling over and rubbing himself clean. He then put the wash cloth in the sheets that were pulled free from the bed. Then Derek pulled the comforter up and they laid on that, rescuing the pillows from the floor.

"I vote that we take a nap and go for seconds when we wake up." Derek peered at Stiles from his side of the bed, head cushioned by his arm.

"Technically this was seconds, so we'll be going for thirds." Stiles smirked as he scooted over to where Derek was, pressing his mouth against his neck and biting down lightly.

"You keep correcting me and we'll be making it fourths and fifths." Derek was absolutely smug as he rolled them over, tucking Stiles on top of him like a blanket.

"I think I could live with that."

\-----------

Really Stiles should have known that it was going to blow up in his face. Not that sex with Derek wasn't amazing, because they went three more rounds before he got home the next afternoon and he was pretty sure the last time he saw Jesus.

No, what blew up in his face was his dad's curiosity. And really, his dad was a cop. Of course he was good at investigating. Being in a wheel chair didn't put an end to that. 

"Hey son." Stiles tried not to look like he was limping when he came down the stairs after his shower. He was tender in places he'd never been tender before, and he wasn't a virgin in any way. 

"Hey dad. Have a good night?" His dad made a noise, either a laugh or a scoff, but Stiles was fixing something to eat and wasn't able to ascertain the difference.

"Not as good a night as you did I'll wager." Stiles came around the corner, confused, and stopped dead when he saw what his dad had in his hands.

The lube and condoms that had been in his book bag. Stiles could feel his face turning red.

"Do I even want to know why you were going through my bag?" His dad shrugged, laying them on the coffee table. They were clearly marked for gay sex, but that wasn't important. His dad knew that he swung both ways. His dad probably could guess that he was sexually active. 

This was still horrifyingly embarrassing.

"I was wondering where my twenty year old son with no ties to the community was disappearing off to at night. Since this was the second time it'd happen, I was worried. I'd give you the 'under my roof' speech, but I think you probably have it memorized from your teen years."

He seriously did. Honestly he got that speech more often than he could count.

"Now here are my choices. I can assume that you are tricking in your spare time. Not a wide client base in Beacon Hills, but I'm sure you could probably figure something out. You're resourceful. Or I can assume that you met a nice guy and are having the speediest courtship known to mankind. Or that you're having anonymous sex in general. You can see why I'm a little wary right now."

Stiles sighed, plopping on the couch near where his father was in the wheel chair, all plans for lunch forgotten. Good thing Derek had fed him before he left that morning.

"I didn't technically just meet him; we've known each other since I was in high school I guess. We met up again and kinda hit it off."

His dad raised both eyebrows and looked down at the condoms and lube on the table.

"Okay, maybe we really hit it off. Does it matter? Yes, I'm under your roof, you can go through my bag, but what I do somewhere else doesn't fall in your jurisdiction, does it?"

His dad shrugged, rolling his bad shoulder as he did so.

"Technically if it's in Beacon Hills it is my jurisdiction, but I'm going to let that one slide. Listen son, you know that I don't care. At least I know you're being safe. If it makes you happy, do it. I just... I guess part of me hopes that maybe it's serious and you'll think about sticking around. At the very least, visiting more often."

If it wasn't for the pain pills, his dad never would have admitted that. Stiles knew that for a fact. It didn't lessen the sting. 

"I'm going to finish making some lunch. You hungry?" His dad blinked up from where he'd been staring at the floor and smiled.

"You're taking good care of your old man." Stiles smiled, going over and wheeling him into the kitchen.

"You're not broken. You can help."

It was probably the most awkward conversation he'd had with his dad in a long time. It definitely beat out knowing that his dad was dating. He busied himself with making lunch, rotating around his dad so that they didn't bump into one another.

It also brought up another point. His dad probably thought he was dating some guy. He was fucking some guy. Yes, it was quite possibly the best sex in the history of sex, but it was just...

Yeah, he was getting really tired of telling himself it was just sex. 

Derek was difficult to read, that's what his dad had said. It was true. Stiles had spent the night and morning have mind blowing sex on various surfaces of the house, had a breakfast that almost led to another round, and then Derek had told Stiles to see himself out. 

Not that he expected Derek to walk him to his car or kiss him in the doorway. He just... would have liked it.

He pushed it aside, trying not to focus on it, but it wasn't that easy.

_"I didn't mean it like that. I just... what do you want from this Derek? I don't know what this is."_

_"It's sex, Stiles."_

He didn't get it. Derek had seemed almost angry that Stiles hadn't expected anything but sex when they got there. And then he was as flippant about it as Stiles had been pretending to be.

He had a harder time understanding Derek than he did women, and that said a lot.

He left his dad in the living room, skipping his daily nap to watch the news, and made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. He needed to get some work done on his paper so he could turn it in. It was due by the end of the week but he was almost done anyways.

He worked on it until nearly dinner time, resigning to order something instead of cooking. Glinda was working but she said she'd be there tomorrow for dinner. He kind of liked having her there. It took the focus off of him. 

After he ordered pizza, unhealthy and yet delicious, he went back to his paper. He just had to cite his last few sources and he could put a bow on it and call it a day. 

Once he was done, paper printed and saved and emailed because he was paranoid, he made his way downstairs. Just in time, the doorbell rang. He paid and tipped the delivery man, carrying the pizza in to the kitchen where his dad was getting something from the fridge.

"Is that pizza? But that's not on the list of Stiles approved foods." Stiles rolled his eyes, reaching up to grab some paper plates.

"Don't get used to it."

They ate in silence, watching the news the entire meal. Afterwards Stiles gave his dad his pills and helped him sprawl out on the couch.

"You know, if you wanted to invite your young man over, you can." Stiles paused in pulling the blanket over him.

"I'll uh... mention it." His dad nodded, yawning as he settled down against the pillows. 

He left his dad's snoring form on the couch after locking the doors and making sure the curtains were closed. Once upstairs, he plopped back into his computer chair. He checked his email, writing down the date of his final exam on a sticky note and putting it on the desk next to his computer. Two weeks. In two weeks he had to decide if he was going to go and not come back, or just go for the test.

He half wondered if he could go for the test and then just come back. He could find a school closer, transfer his credits. He could stay with his dad.

He could stay near Derek.

What a laugh. He shook his head, pushing that thought away. It wasn't about Derek. He probably didn't care. It was sex. Just sex.

Oh yeah. He was definitely getting tired of saying that to himself.

\------------

Things went smoothly for the first week. He helped his dad around the house, spent time with him and Glinda, and even had Ms. McCall over for dinner with all of them one night. It was fine and not awkward in the least. That had been surprising.

He spent time with Derek as much as he could. Their schedules didn't always mesh for them to have long periods of time together, but they saw one another at least once a day. 

The sex was just as good when it was rushed as when they had all the time in the world. 

They were in the Camaro, trying to find their shirts, when the topic of the first time they had any contact came up. Stiles wasn't sure what brought it on, who started it, but there it was.

"So what ever happened between you and Scott?" Stiles froze, halfway with his shirt on. He shook off the surprise and pulled the fabric over his head.

"What do you mean?" Derek shot him a look, one that clearly said he wasn't fooling anyone. Stiles tried to play stupid but he finally had to sigh.

"After he was cured, I don't know. Things changed. He wanted to push it in the back, to pretend like we hadn't been part of this... clusterfuck. And he pushed it so far away that he didn't realize I was still... I don't know. Stuck on second string I guess. Him and Allison kind of came co-dependent in a way that is so unhealthy but that's young love for you."

He tripped over his words and had to mentally shake himself. Now was not the time.

"Anyways, at graduation, things kind of toppled over. We were celebrating with our families and Scott pulled me aside to say that he and Allison were going to school out east to get away from the memories and everything. They were engaged. I might have flipped out on him."

It wasn't pretty. There was yelling and screaming and crying and Stiles even threw a piece of cake at Scott. That had been interesting at least.

"I heard through the grapevine that they broke up. Allison couldn't take Scott's new intense dedication to anything that wasn't their old life. She's a good person, and I think she probably really loved him, but he took things to a new height. He got scared and ran away."

The words struck a chord in Stiles and he tried to ignore that too. He didn't want to think about it, about his own cowardice. He knew that he had run away, that he just couldn't go back because he didn't want people to know that he'd been scared.

Maybe he should get over that. Maybe it was too late. Maybe it didn't even matter.

"So you don't talk anymore?" Stiles turned around, watching as Derek leaned against the back seat as if he had no care in the world. As if they hadn't had rushed sex in the back seat of a cramped car, as if Stiles wasn't rambling about someone Derek probably didn't even care about, as if they weren't living on borrowed time.

"No. We emailed back and forth for a bit, after we both settled our angers, but things taper off. You know how it is. Friendships and relationships don't always last. It happens. It sucks and sometimes the fault can be placed with someone, but mostly it's just distance and growing apart."

Derek nodded, rolling his neck to work out a kink before opening the door.

"I should get you back to your car before someone discovers it and worries you've been kidnapped." Stiles, grateful for the subject change, hopped out of the backseat and moved to the front.

"Well, I mean, you kidnapped me for a quickie in the back of your car on an abandoned road. I'm just saying that there are statistics about these kinds of things.” Derek laughed, getting into the driver's seat and starting the car.

"We're becoming quite the statistic ourselves."

Stiles wasn't sure what he meant by that so he left it alone. It wasn't going to help himself any to ponder on it. 

They met up a few more times before the weekend, but come Saturday, Stiles had no plans. He hadn't expected Derek to call him up and invite him for another night of reckless abandon, but he kind of hoped all the same.

His phone rang at half past five. Usually if Derek wanted to get in touch with him, they texted. He looked at the display but the number wasn't programmed. It was local though. He answered it without pondering too much on it.

"Hello Stiles." That voice. He'd have given anything to hear that voice say his name like that in high school.

"Lydia. Nice to hear from you." She repeated the greeting, although her voice didn't sound half as forced.

"I'm hoping you're still in town. The party is going to be Monday. You will be able to make it, won't you?" Stiles checked his mental calendar. His exam was Friday. He needed to make his decision soon.

"Yeah, I should be. You still live in the same place?" Because who in Beacon Hills didn't know where Lydia Martin lived.

"Of course. I'm glad you'll be able to make it. It's going to be great. You can bring something if you want, but we'll definitely have enough food and drinks for everyone. And bring a friend, if you want." 

A taunt. Stiles almost rose to the bait.

"Great. What time?"

After settling that, eight pm on Monday, he hung up. He glanced around his bedroom with a sigh. He was so out of his league.

Sunday Stiles went to the mall to return his books. He walked slow, giving his mind time to become vacant. His head had been swimming the past few days. His dad was well aware that he had to go to campus on Friday but he'd been vague about whether or not he'd be coming back.

He didn't know. He couldn't figure it out. He wanted to stay, wanted to have a reason to stay even more.

He didn't want to be his dad's crutch, but he wanted someone, anyone, to be his anchor. 

"You look awfully grim." Stiles jerked out of his thoughts, half smiling at the sight of Derek in the mall. He thought this would be one place he wouldn't run into the older man. 

"Oh you know me. Always grim." Derek smirked, Stiles' reflection in his glasses looking wary as he bent down to put his mouth close to Stiles'.

“I don’t know; I’ve seen you in the grips of ecstasy. You aren't always grim." Stiles cleared his throat, a little too loudly if the looks that got him was to judge.

"Subtle. Real subtle." Derek laughed, casting an uncaring look at the people around them.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

Stiles looked up, wishing he could see Derek's eyes instead of looking at those damn glasses. His expression was unreadable, but Stiles wondered if his eyes would give him a hint.

"I don't know. I've got some high school hell party tomorrow so I think I'll need some pre-therapy to prepare. Why, did you have something in mind?"

Derek shrugged, casting a look at the woman closest to them. She blinked back coyly before smiling flirtatiously. Stiles wanted to take a step closer to Derek, to see her look of resignation, but he stopped himself.

It wasn't his place, he told himself. He isn't yours. 

"I was going to grill out. Thought you might want to join me." Stiles shifted on his feet, casting a look at the woman that was still glancing up at Derek every few seconds.

"Sure. What time and should I bring anything?" A glance at his watch told him it was just after four.

"About six thirty. And no, I got it covered." 

Stiles nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. The woman seemed to edging a little closer to them, eyes intent on Derek. And as much as Stiles wanted to grab Derek and lay claim to him in front of God and everyone in that mall, he kept his urges in check.

"Alright. I'll be there." Derek nodded. Just as Stiles was about to leave, Derek reached out and grabbed his chin, pulling him in and pressing a hard kiss to his mouth.

"See you then." He stalked off leaving Stiles and the bystanders a little shocked. Of course most of them knew who Derek was, and there were probably a few that recognized him. Beacon Hills was full of gossiping old women. Stiles wondered how long until his dad found out.

The plus side was that the woman looked utterly crushed. Stiles tried not to feel boastful about that.

He got home in record time, showered and prepared himself as he usually did if he knew about their time together beforehand. Derek had showed his appreciation for that in more ways than one.

And really, once you've had a guy's tongue up your ass, life seemed to click a little more.

His dad didn't even ask, just noted that Stiles was cleaned and thrumming with a nervous energy in a way that made Stiles feel a little silly.

"Meeting the parents?" Stiles looked up, eyes wide, and shook his head. As horrible as it was, he was glad he didn't have to go through that loop. 

Not that that loop was even offered for him.

"Nope. You going to be okay here?" His dad rolled his eyes, propping one of his casted legs on the table. He'd gotten better at moving around with them.

"Glinda will be here in a little while. Are you staying out all night or just for a few hours?” The invitation hadn't been specific so Stiles didn't know.

"Probably just for a few hours but I'll send a text if that changes." He had a change of clothes and his usual toiletries in the jeep. He'd started leaving it there after that first night.

"Okay. Have fun kiddo."

Stiles slipped out of the house before his dad could try to give him a safe sex talk again. There'd been a lot of knowing glances from his dad after he'd found the condoms and Glinda had 'accidentally' left a safe sex pamphlet on the dinner table one night.

He 'accidentally' said at least he didn't have to worry about getting someone pregnant and was rewarded with how identically red Glinda and his dad had gotten.

He made it to the house just after six thirty. He knocked but no one answered. Derek's car was there, so he knew he was there. He pushed the door open and made his way through to the back yard.

Derek was standing over the grill, eyes intent on the food. Stiles knew that he was aware of his presence, it was incredibly difficult to sneak up on him, but he felt the need to announce himself anyways.

"I'm here." Derek glanced up with a smile, an almost knowing glint in his eyes that Stiles didn't understand.

"Good, I could use another pair of hands. Think you can cut up the stuff on the counter without cutting a finger off?" Stiles poked his head back into the kitchen to see lettuce, tomatoes, and onions on the cutting board.

"I guess we'll see."

He worked on the vegetables while Derek continued grilling. He was mostly done when a pair of warm arms wrapped around his waist.

"Still have all of your fingers?" Stiles put down the knife and wiggled them. Derek reached out and grabbed one, pulling the hand up and sucking a finger into his mouth. It had tomato juice on it and Derek laved it up and down to get all traces of it.

"That's unsanitary." Stiles didn't mind at all though. Derek laughed around his finger and dropped the hand so Stiles could keep cutting.

"I had my mouth on your ass and you kissed me afterwards. I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to talk about unsanitary." 

Stiles knew he was blushing, so he shooed Derek away and kept cutting until he had calmed down a bit. They ate hamburgers and hotdogs, laughing about whatever they could find to talk about.

"So, party on Monday night? Your old classmates sure know how to party.” Stiles laughed as he picked up his plate and brought it to the sink.

"I don't know about all of that, but sure. It's going to be hell but I'll survive." Derek brought his plate over and ran the water over both before sticking them into the dishwasher.

"I'm sure you'll find some way to pass the time."

He wrapped his arms around Stiles shoulders, pulling him so that his back was pressed tight against Derek's chest. Stiles slumped into the hold, not minding in the least.

"I can bring a friend if I want. You're more than welcome to come with me. I'm sure we can find new places to scandalize." 

He said it and then held his breath. Derek simply laughed, his chest bumping against Stiles' back.

"Not exactly my scene." He released the breath, pushing the disappointment away. He turned around, threading his arms around Derek's waist.

"What exactly is your scene?"

Derek smirked at the opening and bent down, lips pressing delicately against Stiles' before he swayed them lightly. It was almost as if they were dancing, but then he stopped, his arms tightening around Stiles almost painfully.

"You okay?" Derek nodded, pressing his forehead to Stiles' shoulder.

"Yeah. I'm great. Would you like to relocate this party to the living room?"

Stiles bit his lip, wanting to keep pressing the issue, but he knew he should just let it go.

"Lead the way."

\-----------

The Martin house was modest with decoration but vast with space. And in true Beacon Hills fashion, it seemed like every person Stiles had ever gone to school with was littering the property.

The real shocker had been seeing Allison there, legs crossed under her on the couch as she laughed with one of the girls they'd graduated with. She didn't see him, or if she did it was after he turned. He wasn't sure that was a conversation he could have without having a few drinks in him.

Jackson Whittemore was manning the bar, his best friend Danny Jepson at his side. Danny spoke to Stiles while Jackson got him a rum and coke, which had been a surprise.

"So this may just be a rumor, but I heard that you were spotted macking with some guy at the mall?" It startled a laugh out of Stiles and he drowned it with a few gulps of his drink.

Jackson was either great or an asshole because it tasted like rum with the mere scent of coke in it.

"Where did you hear that?" Danny left Jackson's side, although it didn't seem Jackson even noticed. They made their way to the side of the house, watching as a bunch of their old classmates were swimming in the pool.

"I don't really remember. Probably my aunt Anita, she works at the Starbucks there." Stiles laughed, because they'd been right in front of the Starbucks.

Great. This was just great. But Stiles had always liked Danny. The guy was nice, too nice to be best friends with a dick like Jackson, but he was a good guy.

"Yeah, it's not a rumor." Danny whistled through his teeth before offering his hand to Stiles for a high five. Stiles couldn't deny the request and he smacked his hand against Danny's with a laugh.

"Shit man. So are you gay or...?" Stiles shrugged, taking a deep gulp from his cup. At this rate, he was going to need another one soon.

"I usually go for both, but recently it's been more guys." Danny nodded, accepting that answer. They stayed at the side of the house for a while, watching people splash around and random hook ups in the corners.

It was just like high school.

"So you and that guy dating or you just let anyone stick their tongues down your throat?" Stiles snorted at that, banging on his chest when he started to choke. Danny laughed and came up beside him, patting him on his back and then simply rubbing it once he wasn't coughing anymore. 

They were getting a lot of looks from the people out there but Stiles didn't care. From what he could gather, everyone was going to know he was swinging towards men anyways. He could do a lot worse than Danny.

"Why Danny, I'll have you know that you had your chance in high school. You never told me if you found me attractive though."

Danny laughed as he let his hand drop from Stiles' back.

"Which should have been the first clue. Straight guys usually don't ask gay guys to validate their prettiness." He couldn't help it, Stiles started to laugh almost uncontrollably. When Danny asked what was so funny, all Stiles could choke out was Jackson's name.

That in turn made Danny start to chuckle before he too was laughing so hard they were holding on to one another so that they didn't fall over into the pool.

"Okay, so Jackson is the exception. And I'll have you know that I did find you attractive in a very hyper and wired kind of way. Like I imagine hooking up with you would be like attaching jumper cables to my nipples or something."

Stiles stayed with his eyes large at that and then started to laugh again.

"Well thank you for that? I think. But that ship has sailed. Sorry buddy." Danny laughed, eyes moving over the people in the crowd with a small smile on his lips.

"Is that your way of saying it's serious with that guy?" 

His laughter was forced. Stiles didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about Derek and how he was leaving Friday and still hadn't decided if he was going to come back. Still couldn't figure out what he'd be coming back for.

"Nope. Just a thing for the time being. What about you? Anyone serious?" Danny's eyes had landed on something and Stiles followed his gaze. An attractive red headed guy was talking with a few of the guys from the lacrosse team. He must have felt Danny's eyes because he looked up and waved, sending a wink with it.

"Met Ben at college. Been together since sophomore year." Stiles clapped Danny on the back.

"Good for you man, that's great."

They talked for a while longer before Stiles made his excuses and headed back into the main part of the party. Lydia stumbled into him as she tried to dodge someone falling to the ground.

"My hero. Thank you." Stiles smiled at the girl that he once would have cut his arm off to have. Now it didn't matter. She was still beautiful and still out of his league and still not the person for him.

Things never changed.

"Some shindig you have going here. Keep waiting for MTV camera crews to come through." She laughed with a shake of her head.

"It's a pity that Scott couldn't make it. You and him used to be really close." Stiles shook his head, eyes seeking out where he'd seen Allison last. She was still sitting there, making small talk with someone he couldn't see. She met his eyes and smiled, raising her glass in a toast.

In a truce. Stiles raised his empty glass and then looked back to Lydia.

"So what are your plans for summer Stiles?" He blinked a few times, trying to figure out how to answer that.

"I... don't know. I'm headed back to school on Friday to take my exam. I haven't decided if I'll be coming back for the summer or not."

Lydia nodded, tapping her fingers against her lips. He watched her for a moment before looking away.

"Well, if you stay, we should get together. Grab a bite to eat or something. Don't think I've forgotten that you and I were supposed to be dates to the dance in high school." 

They were supposed to be, because Allison had set them up, but the final fight had happened before it and afterwards Stiles just hadn't felt up to it.

"Yeah. I'll be in touch. I should probably head out though. Lots to do, no time to do it in. You know how it goes."

He thanked her for a lovely time, said goodbye to Danny, nodded to Allison and refused to make eye contact with anyone else as he slipped out of the party. He had parked down the road and he slid into the driver's seat with a sigh once he made it there.

He knew that the party was going to bring back all of the reasons he'd left. He didn't realize that it would also bring up all the reasons he should stay.

\------------

He didn't see or talk to Derek until Wednesday. He had just finished packing the last of his stuff besides his clothes and had taken a shower. When he came out of the shower, Derek was sitting at his desk. He was staring at the sticky note that had Friday's date and 'return to skewl' written on it. 

"So you're heading out Friday?" Stiles nodded, rubbing the back of his head as he looked around the room. For some reason he felt very strange being in his bedroom with Derek while only wearing a towel.

"Got my exam on campus in the morning so I'll probably be leaving Thursday night. Tomorrow night." Derek nodded because Stiles was pretty sure he'd mentioned that during their fuckship or whatever it was that they had. 

"Have a good time Monday?" It was a non sequitur that caused Stiles to pause. He nodded slowly, fearing that he was treading on thin ice for some reason.

"Yeah. It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be." 

Derek nodded, standing up and moving to glance out of the window.

"I stopped by for a few minutes." Stiles blinked, confused and disoriented and knowing that something was dreadfully wrong.

"I thought you said it wasn't your scene." He moved over to his bag and began to rifle around for some clothes.

"I didn't say no." 

That was true. Stiles pulled on a pair of boxers and then dropped the towel, kicking it to the corner. Derek wasn't looking at him but Stiles was sure he was completely aware of everything he did.

"I didn't see you." He was sure that if Derek had been there he would have seen him. His eyes seemed to constantly look for him.

"You were outside talking to someone. Didn't want to interrupt." His shoulders were tense and Stiles paused as he pulled on his shirt. That sounded almost like...

"Are you jealous?" He hadn't meant to say it because that was approaching the reason his mind constantly played the _just sex_ broken record. Derek spun around and fixed Stiles with a hard glare that made his skin feel too tight.

"No, I'm not jealous. It's just a thing for the time being, right?"

At that, Derek shook his head and moved to the window and slid out, much the way he must have slid in. Stiles watched him go, trying to figure out what just happened. He replayed the last several minutes through his head over and over until something stuck out.

 _"No, I'm not jealous. It's just a thing for the time being, right?"_ He thought about it until it clicked, almost painfully.

_"Is that your way of saying it's serious with that guy?"_

_"Nope. Just a thing for the time being."_

His chest felt too small and his insides felt too large and Stiles had to sit down in the middle of the floor for fear of throwing up. He could hear his dad talking to the television downstairs, his skin felt like it'd been covered in glue, and he was pretty sure his heart had relocated to his knee caps. Fuck. And he thought werewolves were supposed to be able to hear a lie.

He got up and dressed quickly, pulling on the first clothes he could find. He tucked his wallet and phone into his pocket, grabbing his keys as he passed the desk.

His dad looked startled to see him as he came down the steps, bounding for the door.

"Whoa son, where's the fire?" Stiles paused, looking at his dad and wanting nothing more than to tell him what was going on.

If things with Derek went the way that Stiles wanted them to, he would be staying in Beacon Hills. That alone was worth telling his dad. Instead he shook his head.

"I've got an errand to run. I'll be back soon dad." His dad opened his mouth but Stiles didn't hear it as he shot out of the house, tripping down the steps and over to his car.

The ride felt simultaneously longer and yet faster than ever before. The Camaro was parked in the driveway and Stiles tried the doorknob to the front of the house. It was locked, so he knocked.

After waiting a few minutes, he tried it again, ringing the doorbell for good measure. He was just about to knock again when the door opened up. Derek was barefoot and shirtless, looking like he'd been exercising. 

He looked delicious. 

"What?" Stiles shivered, trying to find the words to say what was on his mind. Instead he launched forward, his mouth landing on Derek's with an ease that should have spoken to the fact that this was never just sex. Not for him.

Derek didn't hesitate in his response, wrapping his arms around Stiles' and holding him tight to him as they deepened the kiss. Stiles wanted to hold him down, force him to see that this is so much more than either of them was pretending it was, but before he could even try, Derek pulled his head back. Stiles couldn't breath, partly from the kiss and partly because his heart had made a sudden reappearance in his chest and was slowly trying to break out of the ribcage that was holding it back.

"We shouldn't... you really gotta let me go Stiles." Stiles pulled back as much as he dared, looking to where Derek's hands were on his waist. His hands were balled up in fists, arms locked around him but hands not touching.

"You are still holding me." Derek shook his head, hands shaking as he pulled them back.

"You gotta let me go Stiles." He wasn't talking about physically. It hit him like a freight train. His eyes felt too dry and too wet at the same time, his mouth wouldn't work, and his heart joined his stomach.

"No. Because this, we can... this isn't..." He didn't have the words. He was always talking; always had a million words, but he couldn't work them. 

"Stiles."

The word had something of a goodbye in it. It wasn't his name, it was a goodbye. Derek shook his head as Stiles tried to follow him, shutting the door and locking it. It was goodbye. It was goodbye. It couldn't be goodbye.

"Goddammit, NO! No, you don't get to do this to me Derek. Open this door right the fuck now. I know you can hear me! Derek please."

He pressed his forehead against the door, feeling the wood pressing into his skin. 

_I love you._

He didn't say the words. He wasn't sure where they came from, he hadn't expected them. But they were true. Somewhere deep down he knew it.

He slammed his fist against the door once before pulling away, wiping at his eyes even though he wasn't crying. He got into the car, scraping his hands over his face and head as he tried to breathe through it.

The drive back to the house was twice as long. He had to keep stopping to figure out his breathing. His dad was on the couch when he got there and all it took was one look for him to realize something went very wrong.

"Son..." Stiles looked at his dad and shook his head before dropping on the couch beside him.

"I keep messing up. Everything that has gone wrong, I've been the common factor." His dad wrapped his arm around him, pulling him tight to his side.

"Stiles, you listen to me. Bad things happen to good people, sometimes you can't help it. But you are not to blame for anything. You saved me. You are my reason for being. Nothing will ever change that. I'm here for you son. I always will be."

Stiles held onto his dad tighter than ever before, burying his face into his dad's shoulder and breathing in the familiar scent of home.

Really, he'd made up his mind long before then.

\------------

The exam had been a disaster, but it'd been graded before they left and he somehow passed. He'd stopped by the administrative office and had talked with the people in charge, getting everything in order. 

He went to his apartment from there, using a key he hadn't even looked at since he'd gone home. The plant was completely dead and the rest of the space felt stale. He scrubbed a hand over his face as he moved about the rooms, putting things in order. 

He'd need to go to the liquor store and get some boxes. He didn't have much, hadn't needed much, but he'd need to get it home. He'd also need to get a storage unit and a moving truck. Maybe instead of moving back in with his dad he could find an affordable apartment in town.

He settled himself on the rickety couch and sighed. He was going to stay there until he'd packed and gotten everything in order and then he was going home. His dad had never looked happier than when he'd said that. 

Glinda had pulled him aside Thursday night to say that she was happy that he was coming back, not just because it meant his dad would be happy, but because he was an important part of her life now. He'd hugged the woman for the first time and felt that knot in his chest loosen a little.

So what if he didn't have Derek? He didn't need Derek. He wanted Derek. That was all.

Except he didn't believe that just as much as he hadn't believed it was just sex. He would try again when he got home. He'd never quit trying if he thought he could make it.

The next few days, Stiles spent a lot of time on the phone. He got moving truck and an apartment. He needed to sign the papers in person, but that could be done on move in day. The landlord had taken his word as the sheriff's son to mean something.

He packed all of his belongings into his jeep and the moving truck, telling the driver to follow him. The interstate was mostly deserted so he kept himself occupied by watching the cars going the way he'd just come from.

Everyone left small towns for big urban cities looking for something new. Something better. Something they didn't need in the first place.

When they pulled into the apartment complex, Stiles rushed to the office to sign the paperwork and got his key. The driver took pity on Stiles and helped him unload everything and bring it into his new place.

First floor, not luxury living, but it would work. Once everything was out of the truck, Stiles paid the man and watched him drive off.

He was back and he was home. He wasn't going to run, not again.

Unpacking was a long process, longer than packing had been. He set the apartment up much the same way his old one had been and frowned. It'd do for now, but once he got a better job in town and got some money, he was going to have to redecorate. If he was going to be living there, it needed to be home for him.

He spent the next few days moving stuff from his dad's house to the apartment. His dad had made him leave the bed, since his bed in the apartment was better anyways.

"That way if you stop by you can have somewhere to stay." The thought made Stiles feel a little like crying. He still helped his dad but since they were taking off one of the casts and he'd start physical therapy in the next few days, he was moving around a lot better.

Plus Glinda was there more often than not. Stiles couldn't help the smile he felt every time he pulled in and saw her little red car parked in the driveway.

It took almost two weeks after he'd moved back to Beacon Hills to finally have the time to try out Derek's house. Honestly, he'd been postponing it as long as he could. He'd been accepted to a college thirty minutes out of town, he had a few interviews for jobs lined up, his apartment was lived in and his dad was taken care of.

At that point he was thinking of finding something else to take up his time before he finally told himself to stop being a coward.

The first time he drove by, there wasn't anyone there. The second time was the same thing. The third time the Camaro was there but Stiles chickened out at the last second and drove off. The fourth time there was a car there, but it wasn't Derek's and the thought that it could be someone else, someone else sharing Derek's bed... 

He'd driven back to his apartment and buried himself in the blankets and tried not to think about it.

It was at dinner one night, with his dad and Glinda cooing over one another, that Stiles had to wonder if maybe he'd misread everything with Derek. He wasn't sorry he'd moved back, but he was going to hurt a lot if he put so much weight on things with Derek only to find out that he had two feet in and Derek hadn't even taken his shoes off.

That was a strange analogy, but he kept it because it worked.

"You're quiet sweetheart." Stiles looked up at Glinda and smiled. She wrinkled her nose in response and offered him another piece of the sugar free cake she'd made.

"Oh, I meant to tell you. I had an interesting visit while you were back in the city getting everything in order."

Stiles glanced up from his refilled plate, watching his dad with curiosity.

"Nice and vague opening. Okay, I'll bite. Who was it?" His dad put his fork down, crossing his arms over one another on the table. The sight of it made Stiles feel a little worried.

"Derek Hale."

And for good reason. His fork clattered to his plate and he ducked his head. He could see Glinda in the corner of his eye get up and move to the fridge, pretending to get something out so that father and son could talk.

Not that the son wanted to have this talk.

"You said he helps you out sometimes." He wanted to give his dad an out, make him see that this conversation didn't need to happen.

It was over and done with. Stiles wasn't prepared to let it go but he didn't need to hash out the details with his dad.

"Well it was the other way around for this particular visit. He needed some help."

The thought that Derek was in trouble made Stiles' heart speed up. He looked back up at his dad, obviously worried.

"He wanted to know your address in the city. Had a lot to say about going out there and getting you back. I thought he meant back to town but the more he talked, the more I realized he was who you'd been sneaking around with."

Stiles wanted to drop his head into his cake, but he refrained. Glinda returned to the table with three glasses of milk, a small smile on her lips as she pushed Stiles' toward him.

"Technically we weren't sneaking around. We were just... discreet." Except the kiss in the mall which according to Lydia, who he'd heard from not too long after he moved back, had spread around the town pretty quickly.

Luckily for him, Derek's name had been left out of it.

"He never came out there anyways. And now I'm here and everyone in Beacon Hills knows I'm here and I haven't seen him or heard from him."

Which was true. People at the grocery store were welcoming him back to town when he was shopping. Everyone knew everything here.

Except that the guy who apparently owned half the town was a werewolf, but some things needed to stay secret.

"Maybe he heard you were back in town and wanted to wait for you to go to him." Stiles glanced at Glinda, because he hadn't pegged her for conniving, but he was getting the feeling between her and his dad...

"Does it matter? It was just sex." 

He hadn't meant to say it because it was so untrue, so very untrue, but he said it. He also didn't want to say that in front of his father or his father's girlfriend.

Seriously. Some things _needed_ to stay secret.

His dad didn't look too shocked, but Glinda, red cheeked as she was, reached out to pat Stiles' arm.

"Honey, I was here when that boy came to talk to your father. I can tell you for a fact that he cares. No matter what happened between you two, it definitely was never just sex."

Stiles felt his own cheeks redden. He glanced between the two adults at the table, watching him in silence, and let his head fall into his hands. After a moment of meditation, he stood up and kissed Glinda on the cheek and hugged his dad.

“Where are you going?” Stiles paused at the doorway to the living room, already fishing his keys out of his pocket.

"I think I need to have a talk with someone."

They both smiled at him and Stiles couldn't help but smile back. Derek had gone to his dad, basically confessed their relationship, and had said he was going to get Stiles back from the city.

If anything said that it wasn't just sex, it was that.

\-----------

The Camaro was in the driveway and Stiles took a deep breath before pulling in. Derek would probably hear it, probably knew that it was Stiles' jeep. He forced his breathing to even out before he turned off the jeep and slipped out of the driver's seat.

The walk from the car to the front door felt like it took hours, but then he was staring at the white paint of the door and he didn't know what to do next. He had been there weeks ago, standing in that very spot, having Derek push him away and shut the door.

He pushed that thought to the back. He could do this. He had to do this. With a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked three times, hard and loud enough that Derek would definitely be able to hear it.

Waiting was the hardest part. He counted to ten, and then to twenty, and finally to thirty before he raised his hand to knock again. After that, he started to count again. He got to twenty-three when the door opened.

Derek was standing stiff in the doorway, arms at his sides and face in the unreadable mask that Stiles hated. 

"I heard you'd moved back to town." Stiles nodded, trying not to shift too nervously under Derek's stare.

"Yeah. Figured it was time I stopped running away from things." Derek didn't move, didn't even acknowledge that Stiles had spoken. He seemed frozen, but not angry. Waiting, just like Stiles had been. But for what?

"I drove to the city. I don't think you were at the apartment. I stayed there for an hour but you never showed up." 

Stiles wondered when that had been. Had it been when he was on campus or at work for the last time? Was it after he'd already moved back?

"Why did you go out there?" The question caught Derek off guard, his mask slipping to show his surprise. Stiles held his breath, unsure but willing.

"I wanted to see you." It was an opening, but not much of one. Stiles took a step forward, careful not to spook the man in front of him. They both needed this. More than Stiles had thought possible.

"You wanted to see me as in a long distance booty call, or you wanted to see me because you missed me?"

He wasn't going to hold his breath and wait for this answer. He didn't want everything to rely on Derek's next words, but he could feel the weight of it. 

"I didn't miss you." Something seemed to slick over Stiles' insides. That wasn't what he was expecting. He chewed on his bottom lip for a second, trying to gather his wits about him.

"So it was a long distance booty call." Derek shook his head, swaying forward minutely before forcing himself to lean against the frame of the door.

"I didn't say that." Stiles jerked his hands up.

"You didn't miss me, it wasn't a booty call, so what was it?" He was frustrated, at Derek for not giving him a straight answer and at himself for putting so much weight on this. He bit his tongue as he saw Derek's eyes flashing blue, either in response to Stiles' frustration or...

Derek pushed off of the door frame and moved to stand in front of Stiles. It'd only been a few weeks since they were this close but Stiles felt like it'd been years. He wanted to just lean up and erase the conversation with his lips, but he stayed himself.

"I need you."

The words sent a jolt through Stiles, but he didn't react. He couldn't, not yet. He needed to know.

"You need me as what? To do what?" He could feel his heart beating double time in his chest, trying to break through. His throat felt tight and he wasn't sure if he could handle the answer, good or bad. 

"I need you to be here with me." It wasn't enough, but it was almost there. Stiles could feel his lips turning up as he pushed forward, placing his lips a few inches from Derek's.

"Why?" Derek growled, the only warning he was going to get before he wrapped his arms around Stiles' shoulders and pulled him in, their mouths meeting hungrily. Derek kissed like it was all he could do, like it was keeping him alive. Stiles couldn't help the noise he made as he stretched up and ran his hand through Derek's hair.

"That's not an answer." Derek laughed against his lips, short and wrecked. When he pulled back, his eyes were open and honest in a way Stiles had never seen before. His breath caught as he recognized the emotion on Derek's face to be the same one Stiles knew was on his own face.

"Stay here." Stiles scratched over Derek's scalp, smiling at the noise that it drew from the older man's lips.

"I've moved back to Beacon Hills. I'm not going anywhere." Derek shook his head once and bent down, mouthing over Stiles' neck.

"No. Stay here, in this house, with me." A warmth spread over Stiles at the words and he swayed forward, pressing his front completely against Derek. 

"All you had to do was ask." He pushed them backwards and into the house, shutting the door softly behind him. He turned back around, drinking in the sight of Derek wearing lounge clothes before he stretched up, pressing his mouth to Derek's softly and then tucking his face under his chin.

He could have this. He did have this. It'd taken a lot of poking and prodding, but he'd gotten Derek to admit to feelings. Stiles couldn't help but smile at his luck.

They were swaying back and forth, slowly. Stiles realized what was happening just as he connected it with the aborted movement from Derek's kitchen when they'd grilled out.

"Are we dancing?" He felt more than heard Derek laugh. He didn't deny it though, so Stiles figured he was right.

He was dancing with Derek Hale. Yeah, things didn't turn out the way he expected at all.

As much as Stiles wanted to pull Derek onto the couch to watch bad television, to prove they could be together without it all being about sex, he felt his body reacting to the closeness of Derek's body. His face was tucked into Derek's shoulder and he could smell his soap and the light scent of sweat.

He trailed his tongue over the exposed skin, breathing on it lightly afterwards. Derek shivered, pulling Stiles' closer to him.

"We should probably move this to the bedroom." Derek groaned low in his throat before dropping his hands and grabbing both of Stiles' hands, pulling him hurriedly down the hall towards the bedroom.

They tripped over their feet, with Stiles trying to get out of his shoes and socks so they could start working on their clothes. Derek stilled his hands, tucking his fingers under the hem of Stiles' shirt before pulling it up slowly. 

The material rubbed against his skin, causing sparks as he waited with bated breath. It was different, it was amazing, and it was going to cause Stiles to pass out before the good part started.

He barely loosened his belt before he shucked off his jeans and boxers, making quick work of Derek's sweatpants and boxers while he pulled off his own shirt. 

Once they were naked, fingers brushing against miles and miles of skin, they tumbled into the bed. Derek twisted until Stiles was under him, legs stretched out so that Derek was nestled between them. 

"Like this." Derek nodded, leaning up to brush a series of quick kisses across Stiles' jaw and throat, finally claiming his lips in a forceful kiss while he rummaged through his drawer for the supplies. 

It took some maneuvering before Stiles had the lube in his hands, coating his own fingers and plunging the first one straight in to the knuckle, breath catching in his throat at the sensation. He hadn't done this since the last time him and Derek had been together, had barely had the steam to even jerk off in the shower since then. He twisted his fingers as much as he could, enjoying the sight of Derek watching his hand intently.

Derek coated his own fingers with the slick, pushing one of his fingers in along with Stiles'. It felt strange, felt amazing, felt like not enough. He nodded, muttering something under his breath that Derek took to be encouragement because he pulled his fingers out before pushing two in, twining them around Stiles' finger as they each stretched his hole.

"Fuck, okay, now now now." Derek laughed, bending down and licking a heated stripe up Stiles' cock before he grabbed the condom and tore off the wrapper. Once Derek had it on, he positioned the head of his cock at Stiles' entrance and pushed.

It wasn't the first time but it'd been a while as Stiles' felt the groans being ripped out of him as Derek sank in slowly. He probably sounded downright debauched at this point but he didn't care. He reached down, fingernails scraping down Derek's back before he grabbed two fistfuls of Derek's ass and pulled him down, lifting his hips as he did so.

The motion caused Derek to groan roughly before bottoming out, giving them both a moment to get accustomed to the feel before he started to move. First it was tiny little jerks of his hips, but once Stiles was sure the pressure was gone, he shifted his hips and was rewarded with a moan from Derek, cutting it off with his tongue.

"C'mon. I wanna feel it." Derek panted in Stiles' mouth, probably not expecting his lover to be as aggressive as that, before he nodded. He reached down and slung one of Stiles' legs over his hips, the other one arching and bending at the knee to give leverage. 

With one hand holding himself up, Derek reached his other hand up to tangle with one of Stiles' and started to thrust. He didn't build the speed, went straight from 0 to 60. His hips pistoned forward, bouncing Stiles up the bed with every thrust. 

Noises were slipping out of both of their mouths now, unchecked as they were lost in the feeling. Stiles stopped pulling at Derek's hip to lower his hand to his cock, giving a few cursory pumps before he could feel his orgasm building. But as he started to move faster, Derek stilled and shook his head. 

"Now is not the time to assert your anal tendencies. And don't fucking say anything about the pun, it wasn't intentional." Derek laughed, resting on his haunches and pulling Stiles up to him, chest to chest, still buried to the hilt inside of Stiles.

"I've been doing a lot of the work. Your turn." Stiles groaned, dropping his forehead to Derek's collarbone before nodding. He bit down on the skin there, worrying it between his teeth as he rotated his hips. 

He pushed until he could straddle Derek's hips more fully, using the leverage of his knees to start to ride up and down, somehow still grasping one of Derek's hands in his. The other hand anchored himself to Derek's shoulder as he moved, leaving his cock unattended between them. Derek noticed that and pulled the hand from Stiles' hip and moved it there. He skimmed over the length of it, rubbing Stiles' balls before drifting lower to where he was inside of Stiles. He rubbed the ring of muscles that were stretched around the girth of him, easing the tip of his finger as far inside as he could get it.

Stiles arched his back, sinking his fingernails into Derek's shoulder in an effort to keep himself up, his orgasm starting at the base of his spine and pouring everything out of his cock. Derek watched open mouthed at the image Stiles made, fucked out and blissful. 

Once he was done, Derek nodded and lowered them back so that Stiles was on his back, legs wrapped around Derek's hips and urging him closer. He was close, needing only a few thrusts before he was coming, biting down onto Stiles' neck as he did so.

His cock was very interested in the biting, but it couldn't do more than twitch between them. Next time though...

Derek tied off the condom, throwing it into the trash can and going to the bathroom to clean himself up and getting a washcloth for Stiles. Once they were both clean, they curled up on the bed together, Stiles using Derek's shoulder as a pillow.

"I know a few people with trucks." Stiles looked up at Derek who seemed to just jump into a conversation without any segue.

"I know a few people with gerbils. What, I thought we were being random?" Derek smacked Stiles on the ass with a little more force than necessary. Stiles wiggled at it before throwing a leg over Derek's hips and sitting with his chin against his chest.

"Okay, so why is it important that you know people with trucks?" Derek let the hand that was resting of Stiles' ass rub the skin there lightly before it drifted up his back, tracing his spine with his fingertips.

"For your stuff at the apartment. I told you, I want you to stay here with me. Here as in this house."

Stiles could feel his heart doing some pretty interesting things in his chest. And Derek could hear it if the look he was giving Stiles was any judge.

"I signed a six month lease." Derek shrugged, the motion causing Stiles to inch forward. 

"So break it. I'll pay the difference." Stiles shook his head, bending his mouth down to latch over one of Derek's nipples, biting it in a way that wasn't entirely playful.

"I don't want you paying for me like that. I'm not some kind of trophy wife. And besides, I'll need a place to go whenever you get tired of me for a few nights."

Derek's hands tightened on Stiles' hips as he rotated them so he was on top of Stiles, nestled between his legs.

"I'm not going to get tired of you." He was so sure of that that it made Stiles' heart thump almost painfully in his chest. Derek shot him a smirk and Stiles covered it with a scoff.

"Fine, then when I get tired of you being high handed and trying to fuck me through the mattress every night." Not that he honestly believed that was possible and if Derek could hear the lie, he didn't comment on it.

"There's a second room on the other side of the house. It's basically empty right now but it'll be your back up plan."

Stiles laughed, leaning up to kiss Derek as he did so. Derek kissed him back, giving as good as he got.

"Give me my six months. If things between us are still good, I won't renew my lease and you can call some of those people you know with trucks."

Derek pulled back and looked down at Stiles before nodding lightly. He situated them so that neither of them were on top of the other, more like just pressed against one another in various places, and kissed his shoulder lightly.

"It'll be hard. I'm not easy to live with. I'm used to living alone. And I'm a pain in the ass near the full moon."

There were a few days before the full moon as it was and Stiles grabbed one of Derek's hands and pulled it back to his ass, rubbing it between the cheeks where he still felt sore and open.

"I like the pain in my ass." Derek smirked wickedly, a look that once would have worried Stiles, and pushed two fingers inside of Stiles. He skimmed over his prostate as he pushed them further inside.

Stiles' cock twitched interestedly before slowly starting to swell. He could feel Derek swelling against his hip. He loved being young with a healthy libido.

The sex between them was good. Or maybe it was more than good. Let's be honest, it was fucking amazing. But the two of them were good together. Derek was emotionally stunted and Stiles was emotionally closed off. The short time they'd been together had opened so many doors for both of them.

Stiles had come back to Beacon Hills while wanting nothing more than to not be there. It'd taken a few weeks and some mind blowing sex, conversations with people that made him see there was nothing for him to be ashamed about, to decide that Beacon Hills was where he was supposed to be.

It was okay to hurt; it was okay to have a past that you weren't proud of. It was okay to be happy too. He finally understood that.

**Author's Note:**

> Seein' Red by Unwritten Law and Drumming Song by Florence and the Machine are the songs I listened to while writing this.


End file.
